Fallen Knights Return
by Tracy137
Summary: It's been three months since the Battle, now a strange woman has brought back the three fallen knights...how is her destiny so tied to theirs...and who will be the one to finally win her? TristanOC and other KnightsOC Nominated for the Tristan Awards.
1. The Calling

**_Disclaimer: I don't own King Arthur or any of its characters. The King Arthur movie is the property of Touchstone Pictures. So there is no copyright infringement intended, nor do I intend to tick anyone off – so please don't sue me, I'm poor enough already! If you do sue all you end up with is a rust bucket car and a load of rescued pets with attitude problems that make Tristan look like a teddy bear. But I do own the story itself and the characters of Bethan, Sandrina and Non-King Arthurian types. :O)_**

**_This is my first King Arthur fanfic. It is based on the 2004, as well as some legends I know a little about. I do not intend to rip off any other writer (I just can't wade through so many pages of stories to check, I'd lose the will to live!) so if this premise has been done before I'm sorry, I just hope mine is different enough for it not to be too boring. But if I digress from the movie and stuff a little, don't shoot me as I'm old and the brain (what little I have) is not what it used to be. Plus I might also change things to fit the story a little better –sorry. But that is what artistic license is all about! LOL_**

**_I watched the film again recently, for the possibly the 50th time and still thought we'd been jibed with the deaths of the knights. I got to wondering what would happen if someone brought them back?_**

_**It's going to be dramatic, romantic as well as fairly funny…in places anyway….. It is nothing but fluff, so if you don't like romance and stuff please don't read it! **_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**Anyway…on with the show!**_

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

_**Chapter One – The Calling**_

The woman skidded down the side of the hill, ignoring the mud now spoiling her breeches and shirt. She shushed the group of children of varying ages hidden in the trees behind her, being carefully monitored by a motley pack of dogs – the leader of which was a large black one.

"Dear Heavens, let me do this thing and let it work!" She whispered urgently as she crept towards the graveyard on Baden Hill.

She rapidly identified the three graves she needed and set to work; silently cursing the men who separated one from the other two, and then set fire to the third! The fates were definitely not going to make this easy for her that was certain!

She got her meagre provisions out of her little bag and set to work – she laid the herbs and shining violet liquid round each of the graves and then put powdered earth about each one. She then rose to her feet and stepped to the bottom of the graveyard.

Intoning quietly, but loud enough – she hoped – to be heard by the souls of the departed she said "I call on the souls of the fallen knights here buried…..Return from the realms of the dead. Come back to your leader, Arthur – King of the Britons.

Return to us Tristan, Lancelot and Dagonet – many here miss you and wish you back amongst them. Your time came too soon, and fate has not finished with you – destiny has yet to see you to the end of your paths.

HEAR ME – RETURN TO ME! TRISTAN! DAGONET, LANCELOT!"

As she finished her keening, for all this was spoken in a language that no one, except a Woad, would recognise, she saw the ground around the three graves she'd selected begin to shift. She panicked, realising she had not dug them free first and started digging with her hands at the nearest…Dagonet's. A large hand clutched her arm and it took all her strength not to cry out as she hauled him from the earth.

She rushed to Lancelot's grave and brushed the ash and burnt twigs aside and quickly dragged him out too.

Finally, she scrambled over to Tristan's grave and grabbed a hand that was blindly pushing its way through the soil. She pulled him out and pushed him onto the side; her chest heaving from the effort, her cough causing her to stop for a moment.

She looked cautiously at the three men all lying on the ground in surprise trying to get their bearings and panting for air. She'd half expected to see three rotten or burnt corpses being re-animated. Instead she saw three men as real as the day they'd died; all in one piece and all, she had to say, very handsome despite the battle scars they carried. The only thing was they were very dirty.

'But then why wouldn't they be?' she thought 'they've been buried for three months, and Dagonet longer than that…'

The old man's words ringing in her ears, even after all these years, she suddenly flew from the place just as they all looked at her. She must not be seen by them; it was not her place, that was what he'd told her. However, her hacking cough attracted their attention; and Dagonet and Tristan managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of her, before she melted into the deeper darkness of the woods above them.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The three men lay on the ground looking at the night sky. Tristan was the first to speak, his voice croaky and dry through lack of use "the last time I remember seeing the sky my hawk was flying towards the sun. Now it is dark; I don't understand….."

"Where are the fallen? I was surrounded by Woads and Saxons on the field of battle, now I'm lying next to a damn grave……" Lancelot's words petered out as the realisation of where he lay sunk in - his helmet mocking him on a stick….. _'NAY! He couldn't be……could he?'_

"I only remember being on a frozen lake…." Came Dagonet's voice thickly, through the darkness. The other two men froze as they looked at their friend. Now it was possible, however remotely, that they may have somehow survived their wounds on the battlefield, though why they would be left out here was not so clear, but they knew for certain that Dagonet was dead.

They looked around their surroundings again, and the cold realisation hit them….they _had_ been dead. But were they _now_? After checking themselves over, they thought not.

The woman on the hilltop became impatient, 'why couldn't the fools just move!' she thought.

"DAMN YOU – YOU'RE NOT DEAD ANYMORE! GO BACK TO THE BLOODY _FORT_! IT WAS NOT YOUR TIME….DESTINY STILL HAS A HAND TO PLAY WITH YOU YET!" She shouted in exasperation, before once again melting back into the trees.

This was not going according to how she thought it would. She sighed _'great, this was just great – they're obviously completely disorientated; I'll have to follow them back to the fort to make sure they got there alright. Then I'll have to stay here with the 'tribe', instead of moving on as I'd hoped, just to make sure everything's alright!_

_These were meant to be heroic knights…why weren't they just pleased they were bloody living again and go gaily off to the fort, like they were meant to? Instead of…of……_' she watched them for a moment '_what the hell were they doing NOW!'_

She glanced down the hill to see Dagonet pull his sword out of the dirt; both Lancelot and Tristan took their helmets from the posts over their graves, and then the scout pulled his sword and bow from the earth.

Except Lancelot - "They _BURNT THEM_! They bloody _burnt_ my swords!" He exclaimed angrily in disbelief. Tristan and Dagonet, who were gingerly walking around the graves of their fallen comrades, just in case any of _them _suddenly decided they would make an entrance too, merely looked at him blankly.

Finally Dagonet spoke, "Can you save them?"

Lancelot swung one round in the air "Hmmm, with a bit of work I might…but bloody hell…..to _burn_ them!" he stopped "where do we go from here?"

Dagonet shrugged "Do what she said I suppose……"

"Go back to the fort" finished Tristan.

Lancelot smiled mischievously "I wonder what _they'll_ make of us returning! I mean, do we even know how long it's been?"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The woman hurried down the hill with the children and dogs. She managed to get ahead of the three knights, who were still a little unsteady on their feet, and made it back to her tent at the edge of the forest before them; trying to look as if she'd been there all along.

She watched the men walk towards the fort where, fortunately, Bors was on watch; at first he thought he was seeing things. Vanora had banned him from drinking so much since they'd wed two weeks before. 'Cursed wench….. I see more ghosts without my ale than with it!" He laughed, though a little uneasily. For the three men looked remarkably real and very much like his fallen friends and comrades at arms.

Dagonet spied him first "BORS! Open the bloody gates….we want to come in!"

Bors nearly fell over; he would know Dagonet's voice anywhere. Without thinking he called out "Dagonet! Who is that with you?"

"Tristan and Lancelot…now open the damn gates!" A light caught his eye as the large knight looked to the left; he saw a small tent with a woman standing at the entrance, before she quickly ducked back inside. He realised it was the same woman from before and nudged Tristan "It's her!"

"She has more to do with this than we know Dag" was the calm reply.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Bors in the meantime had almost fallen from the battlement in his haste to get to the gate, shouting and laughing at what seemed to be transpiring. If he was losing his mind, he didn't care….at least he would be insane with his best friend for company!

Arthur heard the commotion and came to investigate "What the hell is going on! Why are you gibbering like an idiot Bors, well without the aid of ale anyway!" he smiled, thinking his friend had clearly not been dealing with his enforced lack of beer very well.

"It's _DAGONET_! Did you heard me? _Dag_ is back! Dagonet, Tristan _and_ Lancelot….they've come back to us!" Bors yelled.

"But they're dead Bors, no one would want them alive more than I….but…but that can never be….they died…." He sounded pained.

"Well, they're not bloody dead now! See for yourself!" And with that he pulled open the gate.

Lancelot sauntered in, trying hard not to show the concern and trepidation he felt, "Hello Arthur…….missed me? I see you've had another…..'promotion' while I was…away!" he smiled, motioning to the plain crown on his friend's head.

Bors grabbed Dagonet in a hard bear hug that would've suffocated a smaller man "_Dag_! Dag my old mate, it is so good to see you! Dag we thought…I mean you _WERE_…. Oh, who gives a damn….you're back my old friend, you're _back_!"

Dagonet broke free, grinning widely at his best friend... "Listen I can't explain this any more than you can!"

Tristan walked past the others, merely nodding at Arthur as if he'd only been on a routine scouting mission "Was my hawk well? Did she take to her freedom?"

Arthur dumbly shook his head as, with a loud scree, the hawk which had been haunting the fort for the past three months landed on Tristan's arm "Hello there, miss me?" he murmured, stroking her feathers.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Word had quickly spread via the other guards on the gate that three dead knights had apparently returned from the grave; Galahad, Gawain, Guinevere and Vanora came skidding round the side of the building, to be greeted with their three fallen friends confronting an hysterically happy Bors and a non-plussed, but clearly emotional, Arthur.

Vanora promptly fainted onto the floor where she stood; Galahad and Gawain, on regaining the power of speech, flew over to greet their friends, particularly Tristan; and Guinevere merely smiled and shot a knowing look to Merlin….who stood on the battlements casting a deep smile towards the tent.

She had done well, the girl - woman now – as he knew she would all those years ago when he chose her. Her part Briton blood was a help; but he knew it was more that that - she had the sound of the trees in her ears, the rush of the water in her veins as he did, and more than even most woads. She was of the elements, like him, though she did not realise it yet….

It mattered not that she had been seen, he knew that would happen despite him telling her to avoid it, her life now was inextricably tied to those below him – she was for one of them, one of the returned... and she would bring a light and happiness to this place that had been missing.

She had a temper and she was a fighter. He knew, had seen, how she would defend them and how they would take her as one of their own. She might also stop the coming darkness…but that would remain to be seen.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Destiny had placed her in his hands, shown him her path and he meant to ensure she followed it…..and in so doing save the men, now happily reunited, below him….


	2. Questions & Answers

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of God, don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

**_Aorsi is a real Sarmatian tribe; it was one of the earliest and also one of first of the Sarmatian tribes to be wiped out– after the Iazyges (according to my research on the internet)._**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Two – Questions and Answers_**

The woman was trying to put all the children to sleep when she heard a light cough from outside. Jumping up, and drawing a dagger from the back of her breeches, she went to the flap and hissed "Who is it?"

"I…I….my name is Dagonet…I have been sent by Arthur to ask if you would come into the fort. He would like to speak to you and …..and because…."

"What? Because what!" she was impatient now, some of the smaller ones were stirring and she knew she would have a long night if they woke.

"Because I saw you….Tris and I both saw you…._before_." he whispered.

She felt her breath catch in her throat '_oh no, she wasn't meant to be seen! Did that mean it would all go wrong now? That somehow they would return to dust, or ash or……'_ she took a deep breath to calm herself _'there was no use panicking….yet. Wait and see first, wait and see.'_

She opened the flap and pulled the large man in - no need to draw attention to them.

He was so tall his head scraped the top of the tent and, in spite of all that had passed that night; she had to stifle a smile. His eyes, though still full of confusion and many questions, hid a merriment too as he realised what she was smirking at. A little boy of about 9 was clamped firmly to his arm, as if he feared that by letting go Dagonet would disappear again.

Dagonet smiled at the memory of little Lucan tearing across the compound shrieking hysterically "Dagonet, oh Dagonet!" tears streaming down his face, before literally leaping into his arms and hugging him almost as tight as Bors. He had never had a welcome like that, and had not realised how attached to him the lad had got in the short time they'd had together.

Seeing her looking at the boy, he smiled ruefully "This is Lucan – we found him when we went to fetch a roman back from a compound on the north side of the wall. He's sort of adopted me…." He ruffled the boy's hair, clearly happy with the arrangement "He was in this walled up dungeon in a little hole in the ground with a grate over it…."

"An oubliette" the woman whispered with a shudder "what of Marius?"

Dagonet was surprised "You knew him?"

"Aye, I knew him….oh aye….I definitely knew him; besides not many Romans have oubliettes, it was his speciality. What happened to him?"

"He's dead – he threatened Lucan and I; Guinevere killed him."

"Good, he was an evil man" she smiled thinly "Then Guinevere saved me a job, I should thank her." She brightened "What of you little man? You seem a brave boy to be without your……….Dagonet for so long?"

He nodded mutely and then spied the children all curled up together on the floor sleeping, he smiled. Dagonet also saw the sleeping children and quickly counted, there were 15! He didn't think they could all be hers, and said so.

"Nay, nay, not all mine…Heavens forbid!" she laughed, and he thought she looked like a different person when she smiled. Even though he realised she would not make eye contact.

"I've 'found' them I suppose you could say – as I travelled through some of the villages where Woads, Saxons and Romans have fought so I have found people sick and dying. I've helped where I can to heal those I could, and to aid those I could not on their way forward. There were always children left behind with no one to care for them; I know what that is like, so I took them on with mine."

"How many are yours?"

"Only she" the woman indicated a small girl of 7 rising from her sleeping place – long blond hair flowed down her back and past her waist, some round her face were in short plaits similar he thought to the scout's, her large blue eyes stared at him warily.

Dagonet nodded, she was a beautiful child like her mother, whose own clear blue eyes regarded him when she thought she wouldn't catch his eye, though a hint of something else lingered behind the coolness of the stare. But he did not say it out loud. "Will you at least come to speak with Arthur for a few moments? Lynette here from the tavern loves children, and she will stay if you wish to remain out here." He gestured then to a friendly young girl stood beside him.

The woman seemed torn, especially as some of the children were growing concerned and fractious as they all began to wake. Finally she made up her mind.

"Aye, but wait a moment." She turned back to the children, who were now nearly all awake. She crouched down to their level in one fluid movement "Listen to me; I have to go and speak to his leader about something. I will not be gone long, and I _will_ return. The dogs are outside and they will guard you.

Do you trust me?" she asked, many heads nodded – one or two even murmured 'aye'.

But one little voice stuttered "we love you and will ….will…miss you…will we be safe?"

She regarded the small boy "Remember what I have told you all before Acton, what my name meant; it is protector of all mankind – but to me Sandrina only means to protect you and ensure naught harm befalls _any_ of you.

Have I not fought and shed blood already to protect you? Have I not vowed to keep you safe? Then I will do that as I always have, ever since you all came to my care. Remember fear is a good thing; it keeps us on our guard and our wits about us, only a fool lets his guard down.

I will _never _leave you – no matter what…._never_. I will _always_ be with you."

With that she stood and motioned for her daughter to come to her "If anyone tries to enter Bethan, anyone other than this girl, before I return – kill them." Her daughter, eyes bright with concern, merely nodded and took the dagger from her.

She turned to Lynette and smiled sweetly "If anything happens to any of them, I _will_ hold you responsible." The iciness of her tone caused the young woman's smile to falter, as the full meaning of the words hit her.

At that, Sandrina swept from the tent. Outside she stopped to deal with the pack of dogs "stay and guard them…you" she pointed to the large black dog "come with me" as she walked away Dagonet was astonished to see the dogs separate and do just as she instructed.

He had to hurry to keep up with her, carrying Lucan to match her pace, "I see you gave your daughter a dagger?"

"Being able to protect yourself, at any age, is always preferable to relying on others."

Dagonet couldn't argue with that "Sandrina, that's an unusual name. Are you a Briton?"

"Nay, I am Sarmatian. I come from the west…the farmland side. Ours was the Aorsi tribe."

"I know of them they were a fairly peaceful, by Sarmatian standards anyway, semi-nomadic tribe. I heard they were all but wiped out…." He stopped, maybe she didn't know – maybe she didn't want to be reminded of it, of what happened to them all those years ago.

She shuddered, "I know what happened to them, thank you Dagonet…" she said sharply, but then softened "but we _tried _to be a peaceful people; strong, proud, able to fight our corner – but ultimately peaceful. I learnt the hard way there is no room for that sentiment where Rome is concerned."

Dagonet shot her a puzzled look – but then this night, of all nights, was puzzling him in many ways. "Did you not wish to bring a cloak?"

"Why? It is not that cold – and I like the feel of the wind on my face." She shrugged as she held her face into the breeze that suddenly blew towards her.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

By now they had reached the gate, and it swung open before them. They were confronted with a rearing horse that was almost hysterical with fear due to a snapping dog at its heels.

The other knights were watching in amusement as the rider desperately tried to calm the horse and shoo the dog away; Arthur, Tristan, Guinevere and Merlin were all approaching from the main building.

Instinctively, Sandrina walked calmly over to the horse; with a click of her fingers and a low rumble, which sounded strangely like a growl, the dog immediately retreated a short distance away. A further command of 'Back!" and he rolled on his back in an act of submission.

She then turned her attention to the horse; her mere presence so close to it had calmed it slightly, its shrieking cries had stopped, though it was still rearing.

Tristan more than most, looked on transfixed, as she put her hand on its neck and started making short snorting noises. The animal stopped rearing almost immediately, and she then rubbed its nose blowing gently on it. Within a few minutes the horse was completely calm and docile and she had handed the reins back to the hapless rider.

"He'll not trouble you now. But you must handle him with friendship and care, and do not be scared. If you show fear, he will feel there is something to be frightened of and you'll end up with the same problem again.

And as for you" she admonished the dog "what were you thinking? I am ashamed of you, you who I would normally call friend!" The black dog advanced and growled at the other, who rolled even further onto his back in submission.

"Midnight – enough! He will not offend again, will you?" As the large black dog fell back to heel, the other dog once more rolled onto its stomach and inched forward on its belly wagging its tail in contrition "Nay, I thought not…now, away with you." The other dog took off as soon as she finished speaking.

Tristan was fascinated, he had never seen _anyone_ handle animals as well as she did; not even himself. She was almost one of them, she certainly had an affinity with them; he envied her and…._admired _her….she certainly had something ethereal about her. So many questions ran through his mind, and not only his.

Since being told by Tristan and Dagonet what they saw as they regained their senses out in the graveyard, Lancelot and the others were keen to meet this strange woman. On seeing her most recent display Lancelot was even more intrigued; what had happened tonight, why had they come back? What was her part in it? He intended to get answers.

Guinevere stepped forward as the other knights retreated to the main room, "Hello, I am Guinevere…..you are?"

"Sandrina…I cannot linger long as I have the children to return to. They will worry if I do not return quickly."

"I see – well, we will try not to detain you overlong" Sandrina had a severe coughing fit "but maybe you should bring yourself and the children into the fort so we can have a look at that cough for you" Guinevere added gently.

Sandrina straightened; "We will see, it is merely a cough. I feel we are quite alright out there" she considered for a moment "but if it might be safer for the children….I will think on it - but I do not trust easily. I prefer the option of flight if I cannot fight…in here that option would be severely limited."

"As you wish." Guinevere nodded.

Her hair had covered her face, there were parts that were plaited and it was quite long. Guinevere suddenly realised that she reminded her of Tristan. Her hair and her clipped way of speaking, the reluctant way she made eye contact, her affinity with animals and her lack of trust all smacked to her of the scout.

They made their way to the main meeting room. On being confronted with a round table Sandrina raised an eyebrow, but unlike Bishop Germanius, said nothing.

"Please, take a seat" smiled Arthur.

"I prefer to stand….."

"Why" interjected Lancelot "does our company offend you so greatly".

"No, but if I'm threatened I can kill more quickly and escape faster when standing" was the calm, matter-of-fact reply.

"You think you could kill _me_?"

"Nay…I _know_ I could." With that her hand flashed out and a knife buried itself in the chair between Lancelot's legs.

"You missed."

"Did I?"

"What were you aiming at?"

"Your brains…" she tipped her head to once side "I wasn't far off….."

Arthur had to choke back a laugh…...though Bors, Dagonet and the others didn't bother; even Tristan let a smirk cross his face.

Lancelot too, stifled a smile….she had guts he had to give her that.

Arthur decided that it was better to seize the bull by the horns. "Merlin tells me you were the one responsible for raising my men, my friends. Is that true?"

She looked at the older Woad standing near Arthur. She immediately recognised him and a smile lit her face. To the knights it looked as if a bright candle had suddenly lit the room.

"Merlin! It has been many summers since our paths crossed. Did I do well?"

"Aye, my child you succeeded where any other would have failed. You remembered my instructions, even after so long. I am proud to call you friend." He smiled.

"I was seen though, was I not? Does that undo the magic?"

"You were; but it matters not. That instruction was merely a precaution; the spell remains. They are now alive until destiny decrees it is their time to go. But there are matters we need to discuss…."

Before he could say more Bors was across the room and picked Sandrina up and swung her round. "YOU! YOU were responsible for my friends return….especially my Dagonet….my brother!"

"Nay, nay I was merely following instructions. Please…." She frowned, wriggling to be loose "please you have no need to thank me." The other knights could see she was deeply uncomfortable with this sort of display.

Then of a sudden she softened and briefly patted him on the back, as you would an excited child "But I would be as pleased as you if my brother were returned to me from the beyond."

"What else do you wish to know, that Merlin has not already told you?" she asked Arthur when Bors had finally been persuaded to let her loose, even though he took a seat near her and kept attempting to pat her on the back.

"Why you?"

"That is something you must ask Merlin. All I know is about 7 summers past Merlin came to me and helped me birth my daughter. We both nearly died, and without him I know we would have passed on.

I asked what I could do in return, and he told me there would come a moment when three knights would pass before their allotted time.

When that happened, when all three were dead; I would use a charm to return them to the land of the living. He gave me all the necessary instructions to make the ingredients for the charm, and told me to guard my time. This I did.

The rest you know. I found their graves today, and at sunset performed the spell and they returned."

"How did you know it was not their time to die before?"

"I did not…Merlin told me and I believed him. He said if it was their time, then they would not return. They all did, as you see before you".

Lancelot interrupted "Are we now immortal? Are we invincible to our enemies?"

"Nay, you are not. As I understand it, you are like all men now. You will be injured and you could die with every injury you get. So don't be stupid in battle, I don't know how many times the charm works and getting the ingredients for it is bloody difficult. So mark me - the next time you die, you stay dead."

"Will we age?"

"Vain man…" she rolled her eyes "aye, your life is as it was before – everything carries on now as it was. You merely stepped out of the room of the living for a short while; now you are returned, your life starts again where it left off."

"Are we changed?" Tristan asked.

"Nay, your hawk will still be loyal to you, Tristan isn't it?" she remembered the descriptions that Merlin had given of each knight. "Aye she will remain with you, and your horse. Any special gifts or abilities you have will remain as they were. Is that not right Merlin?"

"You studied well child – once again I am proud of all you remembered."

"So, this is the first night of the rest of our lives…" said Dagonet with finality.

"Aye…_you_ understand" Sandrina agreed, thankful that at least _someone_ seemed to understand what she was saying.

She tipped her head, as if listening "I must go now – the children are becoming fractious." They all listened intently, but none heard a thing; except Tristan, who could hear a faint wail from somewhere in the distance.

Guinevere stepped forward, as Sandrina gave another hacking cough. "Will you come into the fort?"

Sandrina hesitated as Merlin interjected "She will, and she will bring her 'tribe' with her…"

The woman bowed in acquiescence to the Woad Shaman. "If you wish Merlin and you can vouch that we will be safe here…."

"We'll protect you!" cried Bors "Won't we?" he looked at the other knights.

All chorused "Aye, aye of course!"

Merlin smiled, one had accepted her – he looked around the room and spied both Dagonet and Tristan staring fixedly at her – maybe three……..it had begun.

0-0-0-0-0-0

The wheels of destiny had once again begun to turn…..and fate would be able to play its final hand.


	3. Bethan

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Three – Bethan_**

Sandrina went back to the tent, she had agreed to move herself and the tribe into the fort at daybreak; she would also let Merlin see to her cough, as she had been unable to fix it herself.

Lynette had left, after Sandrina had thanked her for looking after the children "They love you a lot, don't they? You were all they spoke of!" she laughed as she left through the flap.

Bethan; a miniature of mother, and a serious, industrious child for her age, came to her and hugged her "I am glad you are back Mama, I missed you. Are you well? Did they treat you kindly?"

"Aye, they hope to help my cough and….and they are _good_ people. Well, the knights are anyway. Merlin is there too - it is good to see a familiar face after so many years of strangers. We move into the fort in the morning; now go to sleep my angel, and dream of wonderful things…" She hugged the little girl tight and kissed her hair.

"I see; it will be safer there, I am sure. Mama, tell us what we should dream about….." a yawn escaped her as she settled back in her place.

Sandrina lay on the floor on her back; this was a familiar ritual.

"What do we always dream about little one? A wide open plain and us riding as fast as our horses will gallop across it; the sun on our backs, blue sky above us and the wind in our face, the freedom that comes with being able to run as far and as fast as you wish with no one to hinder you.

The solitude of a quiet wood with no disturbance save your own thoughts and the call of a bird; the excitement of a thunderstorm, where the thunder calls your name and writes your dreams in the lightening.

That is what you should dream about Bethan….…what I _always_ dream about…."she spoke wistfully and with great longing.

The silence told her that her daughter, like the others, was finally asleep. She leant across and kissed her hair "and to know that there is at least one person in this world who cares if I died tonight. You fill my soul with pride and my heart with love Bethan….because of you I have not lost all faith in mankind."

Outside the tent, strangely ignored by the dogs, Tristan stood and watched.

His face inscrutable, his emotions masked – he absently patted the large black wolfhound nuzzling his hand, and turned and walked slowly back to the fort.

He knew from this day forward, whether she ever knew it or not, there would be one other who would mourn her passing; without being able to explain why; except, perhaps, because _her_ dream was also his.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The next morning, as dawn broke, Sandrina and her ragtag 'tribe' of children entered the fort. Dagonet was there to greet them; Tristan standing a way off, by the stables, watched too.

"The others had a few ales too many last night..." he apologised smiling. "I have no idea when Lancelot will surface, or the others. I, Tristan and Arthur were the only ones who did not overdo so can be here to help".

Sandrina smiled warmly "You cannot blame them for celebrating your return! I am used to hard work and so will be fine on my own – but thank you.

Where are we to sleep? Also, I intend to do my share, is there any work here I can help with; even in the Tavern say?"

"You can all sleep in those two rooms over there. But no work yet – not until we get that cough sorted out; Arthur and Merlin's orders…by the way, are you not a healer?"

"Of sorts, Merlin taught me a lot – but alas this healer could not heal _herself_. I have healed men of awful wounds in battle; even raised the dead it would appear….but cannot cure my own simple cough!" Her laugh rang out lightly, but all too briefly, before another cough overtook her.

"What Harpy disturbs my sleep, and breaks my skull with her cackling!" cried a voice from the gallery above them.

They all looked up to be confronted with a dishevelled Lancelot; as Arthur roamed forth from his, and Guinevere's, bedroom on the ground floor. Merlin too, ventured from the stable where he had been sleeping. Galahad peered out from his room, and Gawain stuck a sleepy head out from beneath a pile of hay in the stable…unsure as to how he ended up there. Even Bors staggered into the yard, roused more by Lancelot than Sandrina.

"Good morrow Lancelot! I see you are learning swiftly how mortal you truly are; for would an _invincible being_ suffer such a hangover?"

"_Witch_! You curse me with your banshee cry!"

"Careful Lancelot, this witch's dagger might well hit its target this time!" He glanced down to his underclothes which just covered him and, laughing, he strode back into his room.

Arthur laughed out loud, as did the other knights present, before returning to his room to tell Guinevere of the altercation; the others too staggered back to sleep off the drink some more.

Merlin smiled in satisfaction; aye, already the melancholy was lifting, and it had only been one night. Fate and destiny were both smiling kindly on them it would seem.

Another coughing fit overtook Sandrina, and Bethan rushed to support her mother. Lucan, who had been standing with Dagonet, offered his assistance to Bethan.

"Can…can I help you?"

"My name is Bethan, what is yours?"

"Lucan…how can I help you?"

"Can you keep the others busy whilst I tend my mother?"

Lucan looked dubiously at the other children, ranging from toddlers to children as old as he "Will the older ones do as I say?"

"They will if you tell them and mean it - but I will tell them for you if you like." She smiled "This is Lucan, he is a new friend – heed him. I have to tend my mother. We _will_ return swiftly." Dagonet passed a hand over his mouth to shield the smile; she was her mother's daughter that much was certain!

Lucan decided that to play with them in the yard was the better bet, as they seemed reluctant to wander where they could not watch over Sandrina; and soon he had made many new friends – though still kept a watchful eye on Dagonet.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Bethan and her mother made their way to Merlin who stood at the stable door, near Tristan.

"Come child; let us see what we can do with this cough of yours." Merlin guided her inside, whilst registering the look of concern that crossed the faces of both Dagonet and Tristan. '_So, it was to be between these two….so be it'._

Bethan hugged her mother tightly "You _will _be alright won't you…I… I…won't lose you, will I?"

"Nay, you will _never_ lose me. I love you little one, more than you will ever know. What mother would I be to leave my best girl all alone in the world? Merlin is a wonderful healer, he saved us when we should have died when you were born – will he let me perish for the sake of a _cough_?" Merlin was genuinely touched at her faith in him, and a swift check of her revealed it was not misplaced; her ailment could be dealt with.

"Nay, nay, you are right; but still, I worry………can I go and see the horses?" her mind changing on a coin as all children are wont to do, Bethan walked over to make friends with one of the black horses.

She found herself standing next to Tristan. Tall dark man looked at small blond girl; then her face lit up "You have a hawk as a friend! You are indeed fortunate – they are very choosy about who they share their friendship with. My name is Bethan."

Tristan was surprised as much at her knowledge, as at the gentle way she spoke and carried herself; as if aware that to be quick and noisy would disturb the animals "You are correct. She became my friend long ago, and I am glad to have her back. I am Tristan".

"She is gladder to have _you_ back" said Bethan taking a long look at the hawk, who regarded her with calm beady eyes.

She looked around her "He is your horse?" she pointed to a grey Andalusian stallion stood next to the black.

"Aye."

"He missed you too, and is just as pleased to have you back. That is nice."

"What is?"

"That your animals missed you and are glad of your return. It shows you are a good man, with a good soul."

"I think _not_."

"_I_ do. You cannot lie to animals – there is no duplicity about them, only instinct. If an animal likes you, it is because they trust you. They do not trust lightly; therefore you cannot be as bad as you think you are."

He was impressed with her knowledge of animals; glancing at her mother, and knowing this is where it would come from - but still….."I killed men for 15 years as a knight of Rome; now I would kill for my friend and my King, Arthur. That does not make me a 'good man' Bethan, does it?"

"Did you kill for glory or fame and fortune?"

"Nay."

"Did you deliberately inflict suffering for your enjoyment when you killed."

"Nay."

"Did you kill innocents, like women and children? Did you burn villages?"

"Nay."

"Then you are no bad man Tristan. _I_ like you a much as they…." she indicated the hawk and the horse, placidly watching them talk "and _I_ would be proud to call you friend."

He felt a small hand creep into his and looked down. The same serious blue eyes as before regarded him but with a smile on her lips and, despite himself, he smiled in return.

Sandrina, watching the exchange between the solitary, silent man and her serious little girl, smiled with them.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The wheels of destiny, turned on………another twist, another unexpected bend.


	4. Dragons & Songs

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**The poem that is the song San sings is my own.**_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

_**Chapter Four – Dragons and Songs**_

Two months later and Sandrina's cough was cured. The cure, she often felt, was worse than the ailment itself - the herbal drinks and salves that Merlin made, both tasted revolting _and_ stank to high heaven. Even the drinks smelt of rotting vegetation and putrid water; but in the end, she had to admit, they did completely cure the nagging cough she'd had for so long.

Lancelot of course had plenty to say about it all. She was growing increasingly fond of him – he reminded her so much of Hunter, her brother, and she found herself drawn to him for that reason.

Their continual banter was the cause of much mirth amongst the other knights, and those who resided within the fort. They would often be seen trading insults across the compound; striding round the fort, children trailing in Sandrina's wake, as they swapped cutting remarks, even when sparring in the training arena they would _still_ ensure they had enough breath left to insult each other.

He respected her fighting abilities too. She was a demon with her swords, and even worse with a bow; six arrows were the most he saw her let loose in one go - a graceful ark into the ground. Even Guinevere could only shoot three at a time.

He admitted he was growing as fond of her as she was of him; and enjoyed the fact that he could insult a woman who wouldn't take him seriously, and who also did not want to bed him.

At first that fact had baffled him; handsome, charming and with an easy sense of humour, women usually fell at his feet – except Sandrina.

But then he realised how much he missed his family, and that indeed she was like a sister to him. From that moment on, their relationship developed into a strong and loving bond that even true siblings would envy.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

She had agreed to work wherever they needed her, this week it was the tavern – next Arthur thought it might be the stables. He was uncomfortable asking, but she did not seem to mind; only glad to pay her, and the children's, way.

"So wench, I see you smell like a pig's arse again?" Lancelot asked mildly.

"Aye, dear Lancelot, the same as you do every day; but at least after tomorrow _I_ will stink no more. Whereas _you_…." She tailed off meaningfully, collecting the empty tankards off his table.

Bors laughed uproariously, "San, bring me some ale!" he cried.

"Nay Bors, Vanora told me you are not to drink in the day!"

"Wench! Obey me!"

"Why should you be different? She never obeys any of us, not even Arthur most of the time!" Laughed Galahad, who was playing a game of knife throwing with Gawain; Tristan stood in a corner a smile ghosting his face at the friendly banter about him.

As Sandrina walked past grinning at them, her hand flicked out and her knife landed in the end of Galahad's.

All the knights fell silent; only one other could pull that same trick. "Tristan!" Shouted Galahad, spinning round expecting to see the scout "Oh, _San_!" He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice, before adding "Tristan is as annoying doing that…do you _know_ how irritating that is?"

"Aye, and so strangely satisfying too!" she retrieved her knife.

"How _do_ you…I mean, how does _he_…how do you _both _do that?" asked Gawain amazed.

"I aim for the middle" San replied matter-of-factly; using the same stance as Tristan would, to point.

She ambled back to the kitchen, leaving all the knights staring at Tristan open mouthed.

"Tristan, if you _ever _had a soul mate it is she!" said Gawain "I mean, did you _see_ that!"

Tristan shrugged "we come from the same area of Sarmatia - it's not so strange" but he did allow himself a small smile.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A short while later they all started to amble away from the tavern as Vanora shooed them out to clean up before the night time stint.

Of a sudden they could hear the light voice of Bethan lilting back from the kitchens, imploring her mother to sing "that song that makes us cry" for her and Lucan (who had long become inseparable).

They all stopped, and as one, including Vanora, started to make their way to the back. No one could resist trying to hear Sandrina sing - it was the one thing she had resolutely refused to do since her arrival.

Lancelot made a lot of noise about leaving, and encouraged the others to follow. All twigged quickly and there were a few moments of stamping feet and calls of "see you later" and "not if I see you first" before they stopped and crept back. Even Tristan was intrigued.

Arthur, who was passing with Guinevere and Merlin, stopped to see what on earth his knights were up to now.

Bethan was with her mother and had obviously persuaded her to give in, as Sandrina had thought everyone had left – except for Vanora, and she was sure her friend wouldn't give her away.

San looked around once to make sure that they were definitely alone, and then began to sing:

"A lonely soul walks on the earth,

Abandoned and alone.

A mind detached from those around,

A heart walled up in stone.

Can a soul survive the curse,

Of being set apart?

To live entirely by oneself,

To accept such a broken heart?

Ask not for arms to hold thee,

Nor heart to love thine own.

Merely accept the life you're dealt,

To simply be alone,

Alone,

Accept you are alone.

Her voice was strong and soulful, perfect for this sort of song and she sang with a heartfelt loneliness; a depth of isolation, that no one listening incredulously outside could grasp……except one.

Tristan's face was frozen into an impenetrable mask; but behind his blank eyes his soul cried with the little boy they heard quietly weeping in the kitchen. She could be singing about him, yet he knew from the tone and quiet desperation that she was singing of herself.

The voice of little Lucan, thick with tears, was heard "again, again San!"

"Why do you want me to sing you a song that makes you cry little man?" she laughed.

"Because it is such a lovely song, even if it does make me cry!"

Her light laugh, which was seldom heard outside of the children and the dogs, rang out again "alright little Lucan, I will sing it again. But I will not be held responsible if Dag wants to know why your eyes are red from crying! I don't want a telling off!"

"I'll fib; I'll tell father that I fell on my knee!" Dagonet froze, that was the first time he had heard Lucan call him that.

A big grin spread across his face as Bors slapped him on the back 'Father, eh? Father!" he whispered, earning him scowls from the rest of the assembled knights in case Sandrina heard.

They heard giggling "You must not lie to your father Luc, I doubt he would believe you anyway, you are such a brave boy usually…"

Dagonet nodded at this "aye, very brave…." Scowls from the others followed.

"Aye Mama, he's _always _very brave." Cooed Bethan.

"Got a little betrothal going there Dag!" hissed Bors with glee.

Gawain punched his arm…"SSSHHHH!"

"but it is probably best not to tell him that I was singing….he will either think that it must be awful to make you cry so, or it was a sad song and I'll never hear the end of it until I sing it to _them_….and I _won't_ be doing that!"

"Why not?"

"Lancelot will never let me hear the end of it!"

All the knights as one looked accusingly at Lancelot, who shrugged his agreement "Well, I _wouldn't_" he grinned.

"SHHHH!" Gawain thumped him.

"Sing for us San, sing!" cried Lucan dancing round with Bethan.

"Alright, alright – but don't blame me if it makes you cry again!" and she began the song once more.

Her soulful voice soared through the words, each one striking Tristan to his core. He tried to reason it wasn't him she was singing about….but still….each line, each _word_ might as well have been about him.

Did she know how this song twisted a knife in his soul? To know that it stripped away the lie he had carefully built up around himself over 15 years; that he liked to be alone, never dreamt of going home – liked to be the outsider, even amongst his closest friends?

The saddest thing of all, was he knew she was singing from her heart; it was bad enough to know this song summed up his life, but to know she had suffered so much too was cruel beyond words.

He looked round and found all the knights, including Arthur, Guinevere and Vanora wiping their eyes. But he knew it was to _his _soul, and his alone, she truly spoke.

His heart gave a lurch what was this woman doing to him? He had _never_ let anyone affect him like this - even the other knights; though his friends and comrades, though he would lay down his life for them they never got to him in the way she, and her daughter for that matter, did.

Just then Bethan came running out with Lucan, as they all made to grab them Bethan cried "Mama! The knights were listening!"

A groan was followed by a red faced and sheepish Sandrina, who came out to rousing applause; except from Tristan who stood mutely by - eyes on the floor, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

"Say it!" She sighed, nodding her head at Lancelot.

"Say what?"

"Tell me how my singing made your ears bleed, or that my voice sounded like a cat being slowly skinned alive!"

"I could, and probably will at some point just to irritate you – but it wouldn't be the truth. You sang….you sang like one of Arthur's angels from his Heaven".

Sandrina threw a washcloth at him "flatterer! Now the truth, Knight! Or feel my dagger!"

At this all the knights thronged round her telling her how well she sang, Bors demanding she sing that 'damn thing' tonight amid general back slapping; his in particular nearly knocking her off her feet.

Lancelot merely rolled his eyes "We can't all be wrong, my dear Sandrina can we?"

Bethan pulled on Arthur's hand; she had long got used to the knights, and whilst still a little wary around the others in the fort; these men were now her trusted friends, Tristan being her well known and firm favourite of them all.

"Arthur, Mama can tell stories too….make her tell a story tonight if she won't sing. Make her tell the Big Black Dragon story, that's sad too – we make her tell it to us _every_ night; we _love_ that story."

Arthur looked at Sandrina "Is this true? Are you a storyteller too?"

She sighed "well, aye – but only to the children" she added quickly "_you_ would find that story boring."

"Tell us now then. We can decide if it is boring or not – can we not?" He looked round the knights, and his wife. All nodded enthusiastically.

"We all love a good yarn San!" called Dagonet encouragingly.

Sandrina squirmed, but obeyed; she loved them all dearly and would not disappoint. She sat on a stool – Tristan felt for her; he knew how awful it was to be the centre of attention, when all you wanted to do was be quiet and watch everyone else being the focus - but he too felt compelled to stay.

"Once long, long ago, for that is how every good story starts – there was a girl. She lived in a beautiful land; she had loving parents, a kind and protective brother who was also her best friend.

Unlike other children, she and her brother loved their chores working the land as they loved to be outside….they ran here and there, they rode their horses as fast as the wind, and they felt they were the most fortunate people on earth to live in such a wonderful place and have such a good life.

But one day, when the girl was 11 and her brother 14, some evil soldiers came and said they were taking the girl and her brother to a land called Briton. The girl would be a slave to a landowner, and her brother would become a knight" she sighed and all the knights stiffened, this did not sound like any _made up_ yarn to amuse children.

But Sandrina continued "Now the girl's people were a peaceful sort; they would only fight when they had to. But her mother was different, she was a fighter, and the girl took after her mother.

She wanted to remain free, so she fought these soldiers; she punched and kicked, clawed and scratched, she had a dagger and lunged at them swearing she would die before she became a slave. Her brother tried to protect her; they decided he was too strong willed to be trained to be a knight, so they killed him.

The girl screamed in rage and anguish at her loss and fought all the harder, so they struck her on the back of the head with the hub of a sword to quell her. The last thing she heard before being carried off was the sergeant saying 'torch the village – these Sarmatian dogs will learn not to defy the will of Rome!" A collective gasp went round the tables, but no one interrupted.

"She realised that because she fought she was going to be responsible for the death of her tribe. As she tried to struggle once again she was punched in the face and beaten. When she came round she was on a big ship going across a wide ocean; to this day she does not know what happened to her parents, or her tribe – but suspects they perished.

She arrived in the land called Briton and went to work for the landowner in the North, past a large wall that split the country in two. He was an evil man who delighted in torturing the people who were his serfs and slaves.

The girl would not give in to him, and because he could not break her spirit he grew to hate her more than any other." The assembled company knew she was talking of Marius, aided by Dagonet mouthing 'it was Marius' because she'd let it slip to him that first night; but still they did not interrupt.

"He took great pleasure in beating and torturing her, sometimes for days. But still she would _not _bow to him.

The only respite she got, the little happiness she now took from her miserable existence, was working in the fields; where she could feel the sun on her back and the breeze on her face. It reminded her of home, but even that was stopped…once confined to the house, her beatings became worse.

He finally constructed a dungeon and in there he built these little pits with grates on the top. He had had some outside, but they weren't enough, as she could still see the sky, and he knew it gave her hope.

He told her these pits were called oubliettes, and were there to ensure she believed in God and the Holy Mother Church and became his obedient servant. Well, the girl _had _begun to believe in God, but not because of him – but his wife; who had shown her nothing but kindness, even to the point of being beaten herself.

After a while she found others being confined to the dungeon – people who held fast to their pagan beliefs. Unlike her who was released blindfolded, so she would not see the sun, every day to go to the house to work; they were left there to rot.

Eventually he sold her to one of his mercenaries; one he knew hated her as much as he and told him it was on one condition, that she never be let out of the dungeon to see the sun, or feel a breeze ever again – and here the wife stepped in, for the girl was wasting away.

Whilst her spirit would not be broken, her body was and she could not fight this large man who beat and abused her. The wife let her out one night and told her to run "as if the devil himself was at your heels", and the girl did, for in a way he was….

She ran to the far hills and there she hid for days, until the landowner and his mercenary presumed she'd perished and gave up the search. By now she was heavy with child - aged somewhere in her 30's, but unsure of exact age; as one year's beatings soon flowed into another – she began to feel her life ebb from her, the wife had given her only a little food and it would not last long.

One day she was lying on the ground wondering what death would feel like when it claimed her, when a large black dragon came upon her. "What are you doing in my forest?" it grumbled, for it had a hurt foot and was hungry as it was unable to hunt.

"I'm sorry, I have come here to die; but I die happy for at least I am once again free, and my child will die free - even though it may only draw one breath in this world, it will be a free one." Then she noticed the dragon's sore foot and went to help it, she shared what little food she had with it and they became friends.

"Wouldn't you rather live?" asked the dragon.

"Nay, I think it is better to die; what have I got to live for? My mother sang me a song about finding a heart to love, but that dream died in a dungeon and I believe this is to be my lot in life. To spend my life totally alone; death would be better than that bone crunching loneliness surely?"

She told the dragon all about her life to that point and he told her she was not to blame for what happened. She did not believe him, so they spent days discussing her life and hunting for food, and she realised that her time had come – her baby was about to be born.

There was a problem, the baby was big and she was but a small woman. But the dragon had a friend, a wise man, who could help and so went to fetch him. The wise man saved the woman and her baby; and he taught her to fight, she already knew how to use a bow and a sword – but the wise man taught her many other ways to fight, and also to be a healer of sorts.

One day before he left he said "you were not to blame for your village – fate brought you here as you are to live and fulfil your destiny on these shores. You are no longer alone – you have a child, and a friend beyond reproach in the dragon. Others will soon follow them; your name means to protect mankind and your destiny is to save children from harm. Animals too, as well as all things natural to this world, will be your friends and guide you. They will never betray you."

"I am frightened" the young woman admitted for the first time in her life.

"Good" said the wise man "fear keeps your guard up, and your wits about you. Only a fool drops their guard." Dagonet's head shot up as he remembered what he had heard her telling the children that first night.

"Go now and live your life - I will have need of you one day", and he told her of this favour she might do him….."

Sandrina stopped and looked around all the knights who were transfixed, Bethan piped up – as she always did at this point – "where is she Mama? Where is the girl now and what of the dragon?"

The other children too had drawn in, hearing Sandrina's hypnotic voice and knowing the story well "Did she get her happy ever after?" asked another, already knowing the answer.

"She is still out there somewhere - she carried out the favour, and made many people happy. She has children she needs to protect just as the wise man said; she lives her life – as we all do.

The dragon is still with her" Tristan watched San's eyes stray to her perpetual shadow, the huge black wolfhound.

"He has a lot of grey scales now and he is old" her voice caught for a moment as she stroked his now greying head. The dog gazing adoringly up at her; one paw, showing a mangled scar, resting on her arm "and she will long mourn his passing when he goes forward; for he was her _best_, _loyalist_ and most _truest_ friend in all the world….." She swallowed hard as the tears threatened, for she loved that old dog dearly.

"As for a happy ever after? Well, let's just say surviving another day is the best happy ever after any of us can have – even she. But I believe she is happy in her little life; aye, she is content now……..for the first time, in a _long _time, her heart has some rest and her soul has found some peace…"

The knights broke out of their trance as her voice slowly halted; swallowing the tears that had risen, unbidden, to their eyes. She smiled, and lightened her voice, swallowing her own tears "Well Arthur, does my dragon story really need retelling, or is it little more than a child's yarn to while away the time to bed?"

"It is the saddest story I have ever heard Sandrina, she has my deepest……I mean I wish I could meet her and tell her no one should have to live that life. But unless you wish to tell it again, I will not make you." He swallowed deeply.

Guinevere touched her arm "The girl's mother, was she a Briton?"

"I do not know - it is possible I suppose. She never spoke of it…..some Britons were brought to Sarmatia to fight or be slaves out there, and I know some escaped. She was definitely a fighter, and there were elements about her that were that of a Woad.

But it is a story, merely a yarn…" she knew no one would believe her now, but did not want sympathy or pity from her friends.

Guinevere smiled sadly, not believing her, but understanding. Her voice full of regret and her eyes full of tears "aye, of course – a story…but…the landowner, I killed him."

"I know" whispered San, and gripped Guinevere's hand tightly "thank you."

0-0-0-0-0-0

The knights filed out silently, each locked deep in thought about all they had heard. As he passed her Bors hugged her "You spin a good yarn San; a _bloody_ good yarn. That poor girl will haunt me for the rest of the day now…" He turned the choked tears into a cough. She rubbed his back and reassured him it _was_ just a story and not to worry.

He didn't believe her, but understood her reluctance to accept pity; and swore to himself that if _anyone_ ever hurt her again, he would cut them down where they stood. He was not alone in that decision amongst his comrades.

The looks she got from the others too showed _they _were not convinced, not least because at that moment they were looking at the black wolfhound and his mangled paw. Gawain and Galahad exchanged looks.

"Big black dragon?" Galahad asked.

"Aye, definitely the 'big black dragon'; dear Goddess….to have had such a life."

"Well, she has us now…." They walked out together nodding.

Lancelot felt this was not what Sandrina wanted, this sadness "Well, that was quite a yarn; spin another that hilarious and I might just have to cut my throat with laughing!"

Sandrina punched his arm, then hugged him to her "If I could choose another brother, I would wish him to be you….." she whispered in his ear.

Lancelot gave a start and tears rushed to his eyes "and I would just as readily choose you as my sister" he whispered thickly back, before striding quickly out of the tavern.

Dagonet gripped her arm "You're a survivor never forget that San. We all love you and would not let any harm befall you again".

"I know Dag, I know – and I feel the same about all of you." She reached up and kissed his cheek.

In the end only Tristan remained. He knew he had to say something - only what?

"Tristan! Would you like some ale, with Bors not around I could risk it!" she smirked.

"We've all guessed; that was you, wasn't it?" chocolate brown eyes rested on her. She knew she could not keep up the pretence, not to him…_never_ to him.

"Aye, aye it was. But as I said, my life is a good one now. Since coming here, it is really a good life. I am not truly alone anymore; I have the children, though every day another one is adopted by someone at the fort – I am down to 8 now." She smiled.

"And obviously I know one day Bethan will grow and marry, and midnight….." She breathed deeply as the tears threatened again "midnight will…._leave_ me. But that song is true… I _can _accept being alone. Haven't _you_?"

She touched his arm to get his attention as he seemed deep in thought.

All of a sudden he clutched her to him "Nay, I haven't. But _you_ will always have me. You will never be alone again Sandrina. _I_ would mourn your passing full as much as Bethan." She started, not knowing how he could know what she whispered to her daughter each night.

"I would not let such harm befall you again, and I am only sorry we knew you not before…for I would have cut that _thing_ down myself, and for once truly enjoyed the act of killing a demon such as him." He whispered into her ear.

With that he let her go so abruptly that she nearly fell, and strode out. Dagonet, who had returned to fetch Lucan, smiled "he _never _voluntarily embraces another, San. You must have moved him deeply."

Sandrina could only nod, wondering if she'd hurt his feelings in some way– she would seek him out later and find out. For now she had pots to wash, but as she carried on listening to Dagonet chatting to Lucan and Bethan, her eyes kept straying to where she'd seen Tristan stride away.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Fate had joined with destiny, Merlin could see, and the die was being caste.

The wheels wound on once more….


	5. Fate Calls The Brave

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Five – Fate Calls the Brave_**

Later that night, after all the children were settled, Sandrina sought Tristan out. It had bothered her all day as to whether she had offended or upset him in any way. For some strange reason she could not fathom, it would distress her greatly to know she had been the cause of any hurt or anger to him.

She found him in the stables; though having now found him, she did not know what to say.

He looked so desolate standing there watching his horse eat his hay, remaining totally still; it amazed her how he did that. Sometimes she would touch his arm, just to ensure he was still breathing.

Tonight he was obviously deep in thought; and she thought it would be better to approach the usual way. She walked over and laid her hand on his arm. He swung round, surprised to see her.

She immediately raised her hands "sorry, sorry; I didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't; I just didn't realise it was _you_." a calm voice and chocolate eyes rested gently on her.

"I wondered…..if I upset you today, or made you angry; either really?"

"Why would you think that?" His brows furrowed, clearly puzzled.

"You said all those things to me and then left. You sounded ….._tortured_."

"I was - you……affect me in ways I'm not used to; you _and_ Bethan. She is as you are. She speaks to you gently and holds your hand. She comforts me, a man old enough to be her father, when I should be comforting her."

"You may well do so one day; one day she'll take a spill off a horse or get into a fight she won't win, for a change, and she'll run to you crying – instead of laughing like she usually does.

Something _will_ happen where she'll need you Tristan, mark my words. Of all of them here, and we both adore _all_ the knights, you are the favourite."

"Hers….…or yours?"

They both stood motionless through the pause that followed…..

"Both."

He smiled then, a _real _smile that reached his eyes. "You affect me….here." he touched his chest where his heart was. "I don't understand it. It has never happened to me before." He looked at her "This is not like me."

"I can see that; that's the most you've ever said to me since we arrived - I think that's the most you've said to _anyone_ since we arrived." She smiled back.

He shook his head "Actually Bethan and I have long discussions - a lot. She has an old head on young shoulders, as my mother would say. She is a captivating child; I am so sorry she was born out of such…. has had to grow up fast. With the life we've led, the other children; she can't just be a child really – not like the others. That's my biggest regret for her; it's nice to see her with Lucan, as they have such fun together. She's not like that with the other children; she always feels she has to be in charge if I'm not there, to mother them.

As to having her; I love her so much - I'm just grateful to have her in my life, I don't care about how it came to pass. She has brought me so much joy. She makes my sun come up every day; because of her, I believe that there is still good in most people. Do you know what she said to me today?"

"Nay."

"She told me she loved you because you always made time for her….as _Bethan_, you put her at ease. She said the others were fun - Bors lets her run amok with his own tribe; Dag always has a funny story and of course there's always Lucan there too" they both smiled knowing how she and the boy were inseparable.

"Gawain and Galahad play silly games with her; Lancelot lets her fool around with the shields and things; and Arthur talks to her about our life before we came here and tries to teach her things.

But you - you're the only one who lets her be herself, talk about the serious things that worry her, or things she finds funny. You teach her to fight, to track and scout and you let her chatter about everything and nothing. She truly adores you - and yet, apparently, you make her sad; me too, if the truth be known."

Tristan had been standing impassively through this, though inwardly touched, but suddenly his face clouded "I do? Why - how?"

"She feels your loneliness, your isolation; so do I. Tristan, I know you're a scout, I know you have to spend huge tracts of time on your own – but it can't be just that, so what is it? What did I do today that upset you _so_ much?"

"You sang."

"I know I'm not any good, but…."

A long finger touched her lips as he stepped towards her "You are actually _very_ good. But it was not your voice, it was the song. It…touched me."

He sighed "I have spent 15 years convincing myself I needed no one, and no one needed me. That it was better that way; that I should live only for the kill, nothing more.

Then today you sang that song, and 15 years of work collapsed around me. I can't explain it, it affected me the same way you do; in here." He touched his chest again.

"You affect me; I find myself looking for you – if I don't see you, I'm crestfallen. I stand always to the side, usually I watched the others have fun; but now I'm happy just watching you…..breathe, move - I…" he stepped towards her, his eyes almost glowing, and went to…..…...

"Tristan! There you are! We have a problem - you're needed!" said Jols.

Tristan eyes shut down, the warmth immediately leaving them, as the soldier in him took over. He immediately turned and walked away from her.

At that moment, San shot Jols a look that made him pale and step back. All the horses started to fidget and the hawk flew into the night with a frustrated cry.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Lancelot, who had found them moments before but had been unfortunate enough not to be able to intercept Jols, despite his best efforts, cheerfully would have killed him where he stood. As the other man was leaving, he knocked him to the ground.

"Oi! What was that for!" Jols exclaimed picking himself up, as the other knights came for their horses.

"Dolt! He was about to kiss her - would another minute have made much difference!"

"Well I didn't bloody know, did I!"

Why do you think I was waving like a lunatic at you Jols; mayhap you thought I was trying to swat a large fly!"

"Who was kissing who?" asked Gawain and Galahad at the same time.

"_NO ONE_! That's the bloody point!" cried Lancelot in exasperation. "Look, Tristan _nearly_ kissed San - until this bloody idiot barged in and wrecked everything!"

Bors stalked over to Jols; he adored San and wanted her to be happy, preferably with Dag - but if it _had_ to be the scout "Why did you do it!"

"I _HAD_ to, alright! He was needed – Arthur said. So I fetched him; I didn't bloody know they were about to get all sodding soppy on each other!"

Bors shrugged "He has a point - we'll think of something when we get back. Get them both drunk, lock them in a room together ……..let nature take its course!"

"You know, _pigs_ are more romantic than you Bors" despaired Lancelot.

Just then, Arthur arrived…..

"_Knights!_ We have a small faction of Celts forming on the south side of the wall. It is not a large contingent, but they can be vicious.

Merlin is moving some of his Woads into position, but we need to deal with them before they reach the fort.

Come knights - it is time to defend _OUR_ land, and _OUR_ freedom!"

He strode to his horse; his helmet remodelled and his banner gone, to show he was no longer a Roman - but a Briton.

The others all mounted up; Lancelot, Dagonet and Tristan cast a long look at Sandrina. Dagonet's one of alliance, Lancelot's one of comfort and Tristan's……his was warm and at the same time desolate; then they rode out.

0-0-0-0-0-0

As their gaze broke a fear so overwhelming rose up in her, that it almost choked her….. "WAIT!" she cried "_WAIT_!" But they were gone.

She ran to her room, grabbed her sword, her bow and arrows and her daggers. Shoving the daggers in the holders built into the back of her breeches, she shrugged on her armour. She swung her bow over her shoulder, slotted the sword into its holder on her back and then donned her quiver of arrows; she only hoped she had enough…

She sighed, it had been a long while since she had used these, but fear drove her…..

Merlin's words ringing in her ears "Fear is good, it keeps you on your guard and your wits about you. Only a fool drops their guard". Well her fear was telling her she had to be with them, fight with them. She had to….to _protect_ them.

It was ridiculous she knew, how could _she _protect _them –_ knights…._warriors_, for Heaven's sake….but still, the feeling would not go and she had to follow that feeling. It had never failed her before.

She stopped momentarily, and sticking two fingers from each hand into the ash of the fireplace, she wiped the thick black lines on her cheeks; her Sarmatian heritage, her tribe, still strong in her.

Merlin stood in the door to her room, watching her, as she snatched up her weapons. She turned to him, blue eyes turning a stormy grey with warning "_Don't_ stop me."

"I will not, you are listening to your instincts; you are following the pull of your own destiny. I will not stand in your way, child. But have a care for yourself – _listen_ to your soul, it will help you defeat your enemy and save your friends."

"Merlin….." she touched his arm "I…"

"Go" he smiled "I value your friendship equally as much, but your destiny is calling…."

She flew past him – and he watched her go. He sighed, he hoped she would not let her feelings for the knights, and one knight in particular, cloud her abilities.

She ran to Hunter; the horse the knights had gifted her with when she had decided to stay. It was the horse she had seen on her first night there, and he was her loyal friend.

Mounting him, she started to ride to the gate – just as all the children, including Bethan and Lucan, came running with Vanora.

Bethan's eyes widened in horror, she had seen her mother go to battle too many times, and Sandrina's heart broke for what she was about to put her daughter through again.

She pulled the horse up, quickly trying to quell the fear of both her daughter and the other children in her care.

"Bethan! Stay with the others at Vanora's!" The other woman nodded "I love you Bethan, I love you more than the stars and moon!

Mark me!" she called out proudly and forcefully to all the children, as she had on so many other occasions "I will let naught harm befall you and I _WILL_ return…one way or another…I _will_ return to you!"

Lucan ran forward "Take care of Dagonet! _PLEASE_ San…..take care of my father…I could not bear to lose him again! He is all the world to me!" his voice faltered, thick with emotion.

She nodded; impulsively slipping from her horse and patting the boy on the head she knelt to hug her daughter, who resolutely fought back the tears that threatened her large blue eyes, "I will come back to you Bethan, trust me…."

"I trust you Mama….as I trust Tristan to save you, as you would save him. But please …please do not leave me in this world alone…." Her voice trembled, but she would still not shed the tears.

"Brave girl, you are my heart's delight…..whatever happens this day, you will _never_ be alone. Always remember that….._somehow_ I will always walk through this life with you Bethan" her own voice trembled with unshed tears, and the child hugged her so tightly that Vanora thought she was trying to stop her leaving; but a moment later Sandrina was gone in a flurry of dust.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Vanora stared at the little girl who only now broke down and collapsed to the ground in tears "_MOTHER! Mother_……..Tristan save her please, keep both you safe for me!" she whimpered into the dirt, her tears forming dirty puddles.

"Come little one, come…."

"NAY! Leave me! I will _not_ move until they return – one way or another, I will see them _back_ to me!" She shrugged off the woman, defiantly standing once again – angrily wiping the tears from her face…

Lucan too, his arm around his constant companion, his own heart tight with fear, stood resolutely with her. Both sets of eyes – one a deep blue and the other a sea green - fixed on the closed gates before them.

Vanora felt as if her heart would break to see them…..and only hoped that their loved ones would return. She turned and gently shepherded the other children, some of Sandrina's quietly weeping, away.

The other residents of the fort looked on in wonder and pride, many with tears in their eyes, at the two small children standing defiantly by the gate…………..waiting……..

0-0-0-0-0-0

Fate had called the brave, and the wheels of destiny turned again……..


	6. The Battle

**_Disclaimer: As before, _please_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Six – The Battle_**

Sandrina did not look back as the gates shut behind her; though she heard her daughter's final cry….a single tear wound its way down her cheek, but she ignored it and rode on.

Fear gripped her briefly as in the distance the sound of battle was already high on the wind. Back on the battlements Merlin stood and watched fate play its latest hand.

Sandrina soon lost herself with the wind in her face……taking her back over the years to when she was young; running and playing with her elder brother, Hunter. Battles then seemed thrilling; she made her first kill at 7 and was the toast of the village for her precision as she dealt the death blow – Hunter had carried her around on his shoulders for ages and they had laughed so much.

But too soon the battle loomed large in front of her…

She quickly picked out the knights; all were more than holding their own, Tristan was cutting men down in his path with a rhythmic action that was almost hypnotic. He was entirely emotionless as fought his way though the men around him; yet still avoiding killing any Woads, who were of course now allies.

Bors was cutting and chopping as he ran through the crowd of Celts and Woads, a little more indiscriminately than the ever precise scout – but luckily the Woads knew to steer clear of him as much as possible. Dagonet, Gawain and Galahad were also making a huge dent in the enemy mass. For their parts Arthur and Lancelot were making their usual short work of the Celts; Lancelot wielding his twin swords with his usual deadly precision.

Gripping her horse with her knees, she took her bow and loaded six arrows – letting them fly with an ethereal grace into a crowd of Celts advancing on a band of Woads.

Her anger rising as she saw their enemy fall before their allies, something in her took over "RRROOOOUUUUUUSSSSSSSS!" she screamed, her bow letting 6 arrows fly again and again as she flew into the thick of the battle – forgetting everything, but ensuring what she'd seen did not come to pass.

0-0-0-0-0

The knights, for their part, all looked at her on hearing a female voice using their battle cry (not knowing how she knew it) with such ferocity…shock registering on all their faces as they witnessed Sandrina riding into the thick of the battle; wearing her armour, her face wearing the black war paint of the Sarmatian Aorsis, gripping her horse with her knees so that she could let waves of arrows fly from her bow over and over until her quiver was empty.

The wind whipping round her she jumped on her saddle, as the horse moved through the throng of warring Celts, Woads and knights. Steadying herself and then pulling her sword; she leapt on the back of a huge Celt, easily cutting his throat, and then moving quickly through the crowd cutting and slicing as she went.

A breeze blew as a Celt came at her with a claymore; she dodged the thrusting blade and swung her sword with all her might taking his head off. Continuing the ark of her swing she took another Celt behind her.

She dodged another claymore, as Lancelot sidestepped a blade and came level with her "Surely you didn't miss us that much?" he panted.

She hacked another enemy's head from his shoulders "I had to come, I feared for you…."

"Me, us or….._him_?" he gestured towards Tristan.

"I don't know…" she gave another wide swing, cutting down another Celt "I had a bad feeling….I just couldn't let you all come alone…"

Lancelot glanced and saw the fear in her eyes. He swallowed "watch your back, sister of mine…."

"I will brother….." then the battle pulled them further apart.

A group of Woads looked as if they were being overwhelmed and she rushed to their aid, the wind with her, and quickly helped them decimate the enemy.

She looked round and saw Tristan was being surrounded by a vast number of Celts as was Dagonet… "_KNIGHTS_!" She cried bringing all eyes on her; she gestured towards Dag and Tristan, indicating their peril.

As she flew against the rushing wind to Tristan's side; Bors rushed, cutting and hacking, to aid Dagonet – his best friend, his brother, was _NOT_ going to be cut down again, not this day.

As they ran, cutting the down the enemy in their path, they shared a glance as he stopped a Celt from striking Dagonet – then she plunged on to Tristan.

Blood was everywhere and she had to wipe it out of her eyes to able to focus on the enemy, she stood with her back to him.

"You were tired of the fort?" a calm question amid the bloodshed.

"No, I had to come…."

"Why?"

"I feared for…."

They sprang apart as another group of Celts rushed at them, but they easily cut them down.

Sandrina saw a band of Woads attack a small group of the enemy who had started to run towards them. Tristan had his back to them, and she saw one about to thrust a Claymore into his back.

"_TRISTAN_!" She screamed as she ran towards him, the wind blowing hard in her face, as he swung round………………

A sharp pain, three voices screaming "SANDRINA!" And then wonderful blackness drawing her down into its warm depths….chocolate brown eyes following her down "_Tristan_"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

But fate was not done, and so destiny's wheels moved on……….


	7. Almost Lost

**_Disclaimer: As before, _please_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**The poem that is the song San sings is my own.**_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

_**Chapter Seven – Almost Lost**_

Her last word…….his name…..

But he had to continue fighting – trying to keep his eyes off the fallen figure on the grass. His heart bled at the motionless woman on the ground next to him, but the killer in him took over and he continued to slaughter the enemy around him.

Within minutes, the worst of the fighting was over, the Woads seeing off the retreating Celts.

"_HELP ME_!" Shouted Tristan, as Dagonet and Lancelot flew over. Tristan let out a low whistle and his horse came to him immediately, followed by Sandrina's.

"How badly is she hurt?" Lancelot's voice was angry; and Arthur, who had also come running over could see he was torn between helping his friend, his sister as he referred to her now, and killing a few more Celts to satisfy his anger.

"She is bad, I won't lie…" said Dagonet, swiftly checking San and looking bleakly at the gathering knights. "But she is not dead yet. Still, we _must_ get her back to the fort if we are to stand any chance of saving her. She is beyond my healing abilities – but Merlin……." He trailed off.

A Woad fighter came up "She fought bravely; as bravely as any man, Woad or knight, I've ever seen." He said "If it is her time to go – she will go a hero, and be welcomed by her ancestors…"

Lancelot gripped Tristan's arm as the knight moved toward the Woad "He means well, Tristan. Hold!" he hissed into his ear.

"She will _not_ die…she will _not._ Help me get her onto my horse." The scout growled in reply.

Dagonet and Lancelot helped hand up the motionless woman to Tristan. Lancelot murmured "Take care sister, do not leave us so soon…" as her ear passed him; Dagonet gently caressed her cheek silently.

The others stood back, realising that now, as all along, these three were somehow tied to this strange woman more than they would ever know. This woman who felt she had to ride to defend them, risking her life to help the men she had come to regard as family; brothers and…lovers?

Tristan's heart and soul screamed at him to ride fast to the fort….but instinct told him the less he jostled the unconscious woman the better.

His iron will controlled his feelings; and he rode gently back to the fort, Sandrina's horse, Hunter, meekly followed him back. His hawk rising high in the night sky above him, keened loudly her own fear for this woman of the elements.

Merlin stood on the battlements; and knew, long before the weary knights rode into view, that his worst fear had been realised. Once her feelings got the better of her, she would not be bound by the elements that had tried to guide her.

He knew she was injured and only hoped he could save her.

0-0-0-0-0--0

The gates swung open, and the riders rode wearily into the main compound.

The sight of the two small children still standing defiantly and resolutely together waiting for them - it was nearly the undoing of a few.

"Dear God…" sighed Arthur, a large lump formed in his throat.

"Dagonet….father….oh father….!" Cried Lucan flying toward Dagonet's horse; the big man swept the small boy up, and buried his head in his young embrace.

As she spied Tristan, Bethan went to run forward a big smile on her face….it fell on seeing him holding a motionless figure and her mother's horse behind him, rider less.

"NAY! She is _NOT_ dead! _NAY, _I'll not believe it!" Her eyes suddenly bright with angry tears she turned to Tristan. "_IS_ she…?"

"Nay."

"NAY?"

"Nay, she is not dead Bethan. But sorely injured…."

"She saved others?"

"Aye."

"She saved _you_?"

"Aye."

"Then I am grateful…..you have both returned to me. I could not ask for more…." She held her head high and tried to smile.

Lancelot and Dagonet, swallowing hard at the exchange, helped get Sandrina down onto the ground.

Tristan carried her mother into her room and laid her on the bed, making swift arrangements for the children who slept there with her to be farmed out around the fort.

"Mama sleeps on the floor so the children can have the bed."

All the knights looked surprised, but then realised this was typical of Sandrina – always others before self; particularly the children.

"This once she must have the bed Bethan" replied Dagonet "You must stay at Vanora's for a while so we can make her better…"

She nodded; the other knights, as well as Tristan watched the child battle her inner demons.

Her lip trembled, but she kept her head high. The tears would not fall, for she would _not_ let them. Her mother had fought well, and saved many….especially her Tristan, and she _still_ lived yet. She would _not_ cry.

Her heartfelt denial on their return, her courage now….was finally the undoing of two of the knights; Dagonet, fighting back his own tears, came to her with quiet reassurances they would do all they could…but it was Tristan who swept the child into a fierce hug.

"Whatever happens you will not be alone…._I_ will not leave you." Was all he said, and carried the child out of the room, still clasped to his chest.

It was only once outside they heard her violent sobs and desperate pleas for him to save her. The other knights stood silently……..surprised to their core at the display of feeling from the scout.

Lancelot ground his boot into the floor, swallowing bitter tears "Why the devil did she come anyway? Why would a bloody 'bad feeling' be so important that she would rather face death than leave us!" He shouted angrily.

"Because she cares more for all of you, than her own life." Was the calm reply from the doorway. They all turned, and Merlin stood placidly watching the knights. "Let us see what damage the child has done to herself defending you, shall we?"

They carefully stripped off her armour, which was merely a padded leather jerkin that had metal studs on it….and found the claymore had bit clean through it.

"That's not bloody _armour_! She came to us with _that _to protect her!" cried Bors.

On stripping off the rest of her clothes, Merlin saw the large ugly wound running down her left side that was bleeding profusely. "It's that which concerns me" said Dagonet.

But all the knights gasped at the vivid and brutal scars criss-crossing her body….

"How could you treat a woman so?" Ask Gawain plainly shocked.

"She has worse scars than all of us!" cried Lancelot "and most of them are _not_ from battle!"

"I am only sorry the brute is dead, so I can't do the same to him!" muttered Bors angrily.

Merlin ignored them "We will need to clean and pack the wound first to stave off infection and then stitch it after a few minutes, after the packing has done it's work and been removed. If she makes it through the next 2 days, the signs are good….otherwise….." he tailed of meaningfully, before adding "Is she injured elsewhere?"

"Is that not _enough_?" hissed Lancelot.

"Aye it is…but if there are other wounds it would be best to treat them too." The shaman mildly replied.

Dagonet checked her along with Merlin; she had a bad cut on the top of her right thigh which would require stitching also, and a smaller cut on the top of her right arm that would only need cleaning and dressing - but apart from that there were no more severe wounds.

"What now?" Asked Arthur, after her wounds were cleaned, packed and stitched.

"Nothing, except wait" said Merlin "that is all we can do now; but someone will have to stay with her….."

"I will" Tristan re-entered the room. "Bethan is with Vanora – I will stay." No one argued. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the scars on her body – some like small nicks, others large and ugly; before Merlin covered her.

Bors nodded "We will look after her…until….until…..San is well…" he strode from the room, swiping angrily at his face "I need a beer!"

Lucan crept in to Dagonet "She won't die?"

"I hope not, son…but best to leave her to rest. I'll come back later to check on her." Tristan, slumped in a chair, merely nodded - his eyes already fixed on the unconscious woman.

After everyone had gone, he leant over Sandrina and whispered "You will not leave me." Before letting his lips brush her forehead.

0-0-0-0-0-0

The night lengthened; fate waited and destiny's wheels changed again.


	8. Returned

**_Disclaimer: As before, _please_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

'**_The tie that binds' and 'to cut the pain' that Tristan carries out are actually a true custom carried out in some Celtic and other similar traditions. The poem that is the song Bethan sings is my own._**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Eight – Returned_**

After five sleepless days and nights of watching Sandrina toss and turn, and constantly checking to ensure she hadn't pulled any stitches; Tristan felt he had a better understanding of the woman lying in the bed before him.

She was definitely at one with nature as he was…. He remembered the strange wind blowing round her on the battlefield, and his hawk resting on the windowsill screeing quietly every so often, as if aware that something was badly wrong; Midnight, who would not leave the room unless forced to, and who would constantly nuzzle his hand for reassurance.

He had also heard from Lancelot that they could do nothing with either his horse or Sandrina's; even the other horses in the stable were fractious. Nay, the animals knew she was sick; and they worried for her as much as the humans did. He had also noticed it had rained solidly for the last five days, as if the heavens themselves shed tears for her.

Checking her stitches regularly had also allowed him to see the scars that criss-crossed her body in more detail; whilst being very careful not to look at her private parts which were only just covered by wrappings for modesty's sake, as he would never take advantage, he saw they were brutal and extreme.

He clenched his hands at the thought of what she must have gone through to endure scars of that severity. No wonder the other injuries she had sustained in the battle had not even slowed her down.

At the training camp he had, as had the others (even Arthur), been regularly beaten if their commanders didn't feel they were up to scratch – but they had never endured beatings to produce scars like this. Even some of their scars gained in battle were not that severe.

He admired her strength, her courage; her resolution to do what she thought was right no matter the consequences. Though what, in the name of her God, she thought she was doing following them out there he would only know when she awoke….and she would….he knew…..eventually.

She moaned again, muttering his name, and he was instantly next to her. Kneeling by the bed, he smoothed her brow and whispered gently into her ear, the one thing he hoped she understood "you will not leave me, you will not. I could not face this existence without you now. You are for me……..Sandrina……. hear me…you are for me….."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Merlin stood outside the door, listening, hearing even the whispered words of the knight inside; so the choice was made, the die was caste. Fate had made its decision. He was well pleased; the scout was a good man and had a natural affinity for the earth – a good match for her……not the one he would have chosen, but a good match he was pleased with.

He moved to allow Lancelot to step into the room. This had become a daily ritual since they had returned from the battle; first Lancelot, then Dagonet (with Lucan and Bethan), then Bors, then Gawain and Galahad and finally Arthur and Guinevere with himself.

Bethan would usually creep back then and spend the rest of the day curled on his lap, companionable silence keeping them both from losing their minds with worry.

"How is she?" Lancelot asked quietly, nodding at Tristan.

"The same."

"Any improvement?"

"Her fever has stopped rising."

"That's it?"

"If there was more, do you not think I would tell you?"

"You never say much as a rule…" there was a slight smirk in his voice and Tristan had to smile.

"Well, I would _this_ time..."

Lancelot reached down and stroked her forehead "do not be too keen to leave us sister – if we lose you, we all lose a piece of our hearts." He leant closer and whispered "and one of us would lose our soul as well…"

He kissed her cheek and left.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A few minutes later Dagonet entered as usual, with the children. He had taken Bethan in with him and Lucan, as the two children were inseparable, and it was felt that it would be better to keep them together.

It had crossed his mind how he would be feeling if it were he that fate had chosen for her; indeed for a time in the beginning he had wondered – Lucan and Bethan were inseparable, Lucan looked on San almost as his mother as much as he was his father.

He also spent a lot of time playing with the other children too, so he thought that maybe…..but instead he had watched her gravitate increasingly towards the isolated, independent and, he thought, lonely scout.

At first he'd been surprised – but then as he'd watched them together, particularly Tristan with Bethan, he realised they were a match. As Gawain had said that day, if ever Tristan had a soul mate, it was San - and he knew that to be right. Looking at the exhausted man before him, he knew that to be truer _now_ more than ever.

He also knew better than to offer to take a stint of sitting with her, they had all tried but none succeeded. The only time Tristan left her was to use the latrine and wash, on those occasions him or Lancelot were allowed to sit with her. Tris even ate his meals sat next to her; if you could call the food he picked over a meal. Mostly he ate his apples.

It was funny how he, Lancelot and Tristan had formed some kind of inner circle where San was concerned…with the exception of Bors, who had also formed a strong attachment to the woman.

They felt theirs was down to her 'bringing them back', as Lancelot put it, and Bors was….well, she was a fighter – she gave as good as she got verbally and physically, didn't judge and could be counted on if there was trouble; just like him really. Plus she had brought _him_ back, and Bors was his best friend, his brother.

He often thought back to that night and how things might have turned out if he and Tristan hadn't seen her…….he looked again at the man slumped in the chair; well this wouldn't be happening, she would probably have moved on…literally.

He sighed, and all their lives would have been the worse for not knowing her – whatever the outcome of this – especially Tristan's.

"How is she?"

The same."

"Any improvement?"

"Her fever has stopped rising."

"Well, that's something."

The children had been sat quietly on the bed just watching San. Dagonet stroked her cheek, "Don't think about leaving us San….who will keep Lancelot under control?" Tristan stifled a smile, as Dagonet leant down and whispered "and Tristan's heart would break…."

As he drew the children out; Bethan hugged Tristan and buried her head his neck "I'll be back soon." he nodded.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Next in were Bors and Vanora;

"How is she?"

The same."

"Any improvement?"

"Her fever has stopped rising."

"Well, that's something - maybe she has turned a corner?"

"We can only hope so."

Bors looked at the unconscious woman, Vanora squeezed his hand. They both loved her, for a lot of reasons; for bringing his Dagonet back, his brother or the closest to it in this lifetime - and helping them whenever she could with the children.

She was a strong fighter too…Nay, a _warrior_, for you could not call her anything else after this; and loyal, you couldn't ask for a more loyal friend.

He remembered her on the battlefield, that look they'd shared as they'd rushed to help their friends; those scars of hers too. Aye, she was definitely a warrior.

He thought how he would've made that thing of a man suffer, if he'd known about Sandrina back when they had Marius; the death he got on the end of one Guinevere's arrows was too good for him…certainly too quick.

He couldn't understand though why she did this to herself, had risked her life to aid them; but they would have to wait for her to wake up to find out ….and she _would_ wake up, she had to – what would they do without her and, more importantly, what would Tristan do without her?

None of them had realised his depth of feeling for San, until now. Or Bethan come to think of it - the little 'un was devoted to him; and spent every spare minute, that she wasn't with Lucan, with him.

He glanced over at the scout, who looked exhausted – but they all learnt on the first day not to try and cover for him. It was only if he absolutely needed to that he left her side. He ate and slept, both only a little, by her bed.

He looked at Vanora, would he be like this with her? He knew he would; he better than all the others, except for maybe Arthur, could understand what is like to love a woman to the point where you would do this to yourself rather than let her die.

He touched Van's shoulder as an indicator to leave; he knew the others would be on their way in.

He leant over the woman in the bed, "don't you think of bloody going anywhere wench…we'd all be lost without you" he leant down and whispered "especially the scout".

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Gawain and Galahad came in next deciding it would be better together than apart as usual, as they felt these constant interruptions were wearing their friend down.

"How is she?"

The same."

"Any improvement?"

"Her fever has stopped rising…" how many more times would he have to say this?

"Well, that's something…."

They both regarded the exhausted Tristan and feverish Sandrina. They exchanged looks; they had both been shocked at the scars all over her body, but admired her spirit for dealing with that kind of brutality and yet retain her heart like she had.

She was one of them now, always would be…..and they hoped it would be that way for a long time yet.

They knew how their friend felt about her; they only hoped she survived long enough for him to tell her, for he wasn't very open with his feelings. Yet they felt that was what had drawn her to him in the first place; they were a lot alike, Guinevere had mentioned that after first meeting San.

They loved her like a sister; both had long acknowledged that and, whilst maybe they didn't share the bond she had with the three she'd brought back, they would mourn deeply her loss if she passed. They could only hope that didn't happen; not only for them, but also their silent friend.

Galahad leant over her "you are a sister to us San, so you mustn't leave us; how would we cope – the horses would pine as much as we, especially Hunter."

"And Tristan, he would be lost without you." whispered Gawain in her other ear. They quietly left the room, only casting worried looks at their exhausted comrade.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Now left alone; Tristan looked at Sandrina again, worry creasing his brow - it had been far too long; he had to do something, and suddenly something came to him. Something she would know too, as he knew her tribe practiced it as well.

He took her bindings and tore a long thin strip off it. He tied it round her wrist and, moving his chair much closer, he tied it round his own.

"With this cloth I bind your soul, both to this earth and mine. If you die and leave me, you will take my soul with thine.

San…listen to me I have done the 'tie that binds'? Remember that? I have tied your soul to mine San, if you….." he took a breath "die now, you'll take my soul with you, and what of Bethan then? So you can't die."

There was also one other thing he could do. Taking one of her daggers and some salt from his plate he spread it out in a small rough circle on the floor by her bed and then stabbed her dagger viciously into it saying "to cut your pain, to cut your pain in two".

He sat quietly as the minutes passed then whispered finally "You're in every beat of my heart; every breath that I take…you exist in every fibre of my being."

He sat back; well, that was it…he could think of nothing else, but at least he felt he had done _something_.

Arthur and Guinevere entered with Merlin, a few moments later; saying nothing despite witnessing what he had done. Merlin was impressed, he had remembered the old ways; yes, the boy was the best match.

Before any of them could say anything, Tristan spoke calmly though his eyes held his emotions plainly "she's the same; her temperature isn't rising any more, merely holding firm and yes, I suppose that is a good thing. But all I want her to do is open her damn eyes."

"I think you've obviously been saying the same thing a lot this morning." Smiled Arthur sympathetically.

"I'm sorry….it's a bit wearing to keep saying the same thing and hearing the same reply." He rubbed his hand over his eyes; they felt like spiky red hot coals.

Guinevere walked forward, Merlin had told her of the scars as had Arthur, and then yesterday on applying a salve to the main wound she had seen them herself; she was only glad she had killed that man.

She and Arthur both looked at the woman in the bed. They both loved her like family and could only hope and pray, in Arthur's case, that she would recover. Neither of them wanted to contemplate the consequences on the rest of the knights in general, and one in particular, if she did not.

They both admired her spirit; and Guinevere had secretly applauded her going out onto the battlefield to be with them, because she felt a threat was there beyond the normal enemy. If she had had the same feeling, especially about Arthur, she would have done the same. She silently added Lancelot's name to her husband's also, but only in the deepest part of herself.

Merlin merely looked at the girl and willed her to wake soon, she knew his feelings for her; feelings of warm affection which had grown stronger since their renewed friendship here at the fort. If he had ever had a daughter he would've been happy for her to turn out like Sandrina; and not merely because she was an elemental like he was. There were other reasons he would have to explain to her……

They left Tristan alone once again, but not for long……a few minutes later Bethan crept back in and crawled into his lap; never questioning the thin strip of white cloth binding his wrist to her mother's.

Once again a strange peace stole over him, and the child, as it always did when they were together- one comforting the other - and they slept.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A few hours later, after waking and feeling like he was not quite the ghoul he thought – he checked Sandrina's stitches again just in case she'd pulled them while he slept, felt her forehead and noted with relief her fever seemed to be waning; he then settled back into his chair, pulling Bethan onto his lap.

She sat quietly for a few moments and then began to sing:

"_The birds tell me I'm a sorry fool,_

_To pine so for your love –_

_To care for you in secret,_

_To think you're an angel from above._

_I hold my breath when you are near,_

_I long to feel your touch -_

_You'll never know my soul is yours,_

_That I love you very much._

_The breeze whispers of my longings,_

_Telling me to seize the day -_

_To caste my doubts upon the wind,_

_And follow my heart where 'ere it lay._

_But I find I cannot do it,_

_Though my soul leaps at your voice -_

_To lay my heart before you,_

_Is not a simple choice._

_So though I watch you from a distance,_

_See your eyes flit everywhere –_

_I know you never see me,_

_To you I'm never there."_

Her clear young voice rang out and, as the last notes faded, Tristan asked her how she knew such a haunting song.

"Mama taught me – she said she knew it from when she was little. Her Mama taught her, like she taught me. She said it always makes her think of you; you see her and yet you don't _see_ her."

Tristan looked across at Sandrina, _'so she thought of him like he………..'_ and noticed her eyes flutter open, hold his gaze and smile briefly before shutting them again.

"Quick, go tell them she is waking up….." his voice level and face passive, not betraying the way his heart suddenly soared.

"Mama? Mama is waking!" she flew across to her mother "_Mama_? Are you come back to us?"

She was rewarded with a faint smile. Bethan flew from the room crying and laughing "SHE IS COME BACK! SHE IS COME _BACK_!"

Tristan knelt beside the bed "where did you go that you wanted to stay for so long?"

"Heaven…"

"I hear it's a nice place, so what brought you back?"

"You…..you called me… then you said…you said…your soul….."

"Shh, sleep now…..sleep….." he stroked her forehead.

Her good arm reached up and touched his face before she drifted into a normal slumber.

Tristan, the scout who never betrayed his feelings, who never mourned or laughed to any great degree, who seemed glad to be alone, bowed his head onto the bed and wept silent tears of relief.

That was how Lancelot and Dagonet found him, clasping her arm, his wrist tied to hers with white fabric, when they skidded to halt at the door moments later.

0-0-0-0-0-0

But Fate had still not finished on this path….so once again the wheels of destiny turned.


	9. Accepted

**_Disclaimer: As before, _please_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Nine – Accepted_**

Lancelot and Dagonet had skidded to halt at the door, after hearing Bethan run screaming from the room. They hadn't been able to hear what she'd said, and had assumed the worst.

On being confronted with, the normally icily controlled, Tristan weeping, holding her arm and having some bit of cloth tied round both their wrists - they thought she had finally passed.

The two knights were paralysed with grief…but only for a moment.

"_NAY_!" cried Lancelot "She can't be! I _won't _allow it! I can't lose another sister! Is this how this God of Arthur's treats us! To keep taking away the ones we love!" He flew to her side, but then realised her chest was rising and falling. "What sorcery is this Tristan! Has she passed or not! For the sake of the Heavens tell me!"

Tristan looked up startled, for the first time in his life caught off his guard, and now calmly regarded his fellow knight and friend "She has not passed Lancelot, never fear – she has come back to me…..to us".

"Her fever, it has broken?" It was Dagonet who spoke.

"Aye, it has…._finally_. She sleeps the sleep of the good."

"She has always done that my friend…." the large man said, his hand resting on the scout's shoulder.

The other knights came running in from all over the compound, alerted by Bethan that Sandrina was back. Bors being the first and the loudest "Where is she! Where is the wench that nearly cost me my sanity!" he cried happily.

"BORS! Hush, she is sleeping…." Dagonet hissed.

"_Again_? What the bloody hell has she been doing for the last 5 days then! 5 _DAYS_ Dag….I've not even been able to sup my ale properly for the worry."

"That's why the tavern's nearly out of business then!" Muttered Gawain to Galahad, who smirked.

"She was in a fever; it is not the same sort of sleep Bors."

"Nay, it is like a hangover sleep….you know you closed your eyes, but wonder why you bothered!" Said Lancelot – causing the knights to laugh, even Tristan.

Merlin could only wonder at the way her presence drew these men together, these knights and warriors; first in friendship, then grief and fear and now in good humour.

He had watched them in the tavern, or the stables trying to calm the fractious animals, discussing their fallen friend, their sister. Trying to think of ways to amuse Bethan; though finally giving up, as they realised that she was happier with Lucan or Tristan - to think up new, or very ancient, remedies for the fever that dogged her.

Reminiscing about some of the things she'd done or said, chuckling, and then chastising themselves for laughing whilst she was sick – though she would not have wanted them any other way but making merry– or acting as if she had already passed.

Lancelot was the strongest critic of this "_Why _are we speaking as if she's already dead? Why do we not hope that things will work out for the better? Enough of this idiocy!" and he would stalk off.

But still they had pulled together, every day visiting her – speaking with her, even though she was unconscious. Though it had driven the poor scout, who had never left her side, almost to distraction; through this Merlin had developed a deeper respect for all the men.

The whole reason he had sent Sandrina here was to change fate, destiny had a new path for these men and she would be the one to lead them down it; he knew they would accept her, that one in particular would choose her as his own, but he had never thought they would take her to their hearts and souls as deeply and completely as they had.

Tristan looked out the window, and noticed the rain had finally stopped……………

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It took a few minutes for all the knights to assemble in the small bedroom that evening. Merlin and Tristan had refused to allow them all to enter in the morning, except for Dagonet and Lancelot.

Bors was _not_ happy "I love the wench full as much as every one else here!"

"I know" said Merlin impassively "but she nearly passed on Bors, surely you don't want to risk sending her back whence she came?"

Bors shook his head, "Well, I'm not moving until I see her!" he moodily stood his ground as Dagonet and Lancelot left the room. "Oh, Right! _They_ get to go in but not me…._WHAT_!"

"Child!" Vanora said as she punched him, but then hugged him "Want a beer? Just this once in the day – to celebrate?"

Bors was easily persuaded to retreat to the tavern, with Gawain and Galahad trailing behind, asking Merlin to pass their love to San. Happily accepting that she would now recover and they could see her later.

And here they all were, watching closely the woman in the bed before them; her normally pale face now as white as snow, her blond hair making it look paler still. But despite everything she smiled…..and they smiled back.

"So knights, you come to chastise me?"

"We should do more than bloody chastise you wench! If you _EVER_ nearly die again, I will kill you!" threatened Bors in exasperation.

"Killing me would be a mute point surely, if I'd already died?" she smiled placidly at Bors; the mischief in her eyes, though her voice was still weak.

He laughed "_Wench_!"

"So you keep saying…"

She struggled to sit up, gasping at the pain in her side, "What are you doing _now_ woman!" asked Lancelot irritably "can you not rest for more than a few moments? Do you have to _continually_ test our patience?"

"I have rested for 5 days Lancelot, how much longer do you expect me to rest? I am also not used to sleeping on a bed…."

"Well, enjoy it then. How long _has_ it been since you slept on a real bed?"

"I was 11…so some time."

"_Never_ since then? I do not believe you!"

"Why should I lie? I was never allowed a bed at Marius' and then I have had the children to think of; it was no hardship to sleep on the floor, it was there long before beds." The knights all chuckled as she hesitated "Where _are_ the children?"

"Farmed out round the fort; out of the 8 I think you might only be getting a couple back." Dagonet smiled.

"That is wonderful news Dagonet!" Her face lit up at these tidings "I will miss them of course, we have been through much together, but I am so happy they will finally have proper families of their own." she leant back against the wadded pillow behind her.

"I would rather have stayed with you, if I was them" muttered Gawain.

"They'll all be coming to see you tomorrow morning if you're up to it."

"I will be…."

"So, why did you do it?" asked Lancelot.

"Do what?"

"You know precisely what….why?"

A deep sigh "As you all left I had a very bad feeling that something awful was about to happen. Oh, you may scoff Lancelot" at a derisive snort from the knight she considered a brother "but that feeling has never let me down before, and the last time I had it that bad I was 11 summers.

None in my tribe believed me, I was a child after all – 2 days later the Romans came…. Well, I'm an adult now, and I wasn't about to let my friends, my _family…_" she looked around the knights, her blue eyes resting on Tristan longer than the others "have harm befall them if I could possibly prevent it.

All I know is my heart and soul were telling me I _had_ to be with you, fight with you; _protect_ you if I could. I know, I know – that sounds ridiculous someone like _me_ protecting warriors, knights; but it was what I felt….." tears welled "I would _NOT_ let you go without a fight. So I followed you…"

"Did it not cross your mind that you could be the one to be injured? Did it not occur to you the feeling could be for you and not us?" asked Arthur quietly.

"Nay, it was not for me, I would know. But if I took the blow meant for another of you" she looked at Tristan "well, I consider it a fair trade. Mark me Arthur, all of you, I _would_ do it again. If I could have the same time over, I would follow the same path." She spoke defiantly.

Whilst exasperated, the knights loved her for it, Arthur smiled "I don't doubt it Sandrina, I don't doubt it for a moment. That is why" he nodded to Lancelot "we have got you this…"

Lancelot pulled from behind him and Dagonet a most impressive piece of armour.

"Hopefully this will keep you out of mischief!" Her eyes lit up, and as they handed it to her, Lancelot leant down and whispered "we need you safe sister….."

"It is wonderful; and made for _me_….that other armour…"

"_That_ was _not_ armour…." Lancelot snorted derisively.

"It was made from a fallen Saxon's jerkin. I am not very good at sewing and such, but I did my best…but this….this is…" she fell silent for some moments, tears in her eyes, overcome with their gift.

"I don't believe it! Arthur you have finally found something to render the harpy speechless!"

She hit Lancelot, jerking her side and causing herself to gasp at the pain.

"Does it hurt greatly?" Asked Galahad.

"Not that I can't cope with – pain is a good thing, I learnt that long ago. If you are in pain, you are not dead."

The knights exchanged a look, knowing…..Lancelot and Tristan both unconsciously clenched their fists, eyes filling with mute anger.

"We saw…" From Tristan.

"What? You saw what?"

"The scars – we saw them."

"Ah, I see ….I…" as she was about to speak she suddenly thought of something and held up the bed sheets, seeing only the wrappings covering her private parts she blushed "How….? You didn't _all_…"

"Nay, nay…." Dagonet spoke quickly "we were all here, but Merlin…..umm…dealt with the wrappings, but we helped with the wounds and things…and saw the scars. What did he do to you?" the question was out before he could stop it.

She closed her eyes, bitter memories flooding back but tried to remain light and flippant "oh, the usual – beatings with fists and the like, whippings, birchings. The worst was 'the cuts'…"

"The cuts?" Tristan again.

"Aye, he would take a knife and make lots of small cuts; sometimes up to a hundred. I often wondered I never bled to death, but he always ensured they were never deep enough for me to escape him that way."

If Marius had walked into the room at that moment; Arthur thought all the knights, Lancelot, Dagonet and Tristan first, would fall on him…and king or no king he knew he would be with them. Even Merlin, used to knowing allsorts of brutality, could not believe a man would do this to another living being.

Seeing the looks on their faces, she endeavoured to change the subject "Well, what have you been doing with yourselves?"

Gawain spoke first "Well, we've been coming to see _you_ most the time, and Tris….OOOW" Galahad had punched him.

"What?" San was puzzled as to why.

"What?"

"you've been coming to see me all the time and…what?"

"Nothing."

"_Knights_, you are up to something..."

"NEVER! US? _Nay_….never." Lancelot blanked.

"Well, Tris….OOOOWWWWW!" Once again a thump, this time from Dagonet to Bors.

"What in Heaven are you punching each other for?"

"It's a new game!" said Galahad quickly.

"It is? Oh right, aye, it is!" said Gawain.

"_Punching_ each other is a new game? What's it called?" she was suspicious.

"The…..um…punching game!" The knights all looked at Galahad derisively "What? Well, you think of a bloody better name then!"

"It doesn't look much fun…."

"Oh it is... it really _is_…see?" said Bors thumping Dagonet's arm so hard he almost paralysed it. Tristan dipped his head to hide the smirk.

Arthur rolled his eyes '_sometimes they were more like children, than the children themselves_'.

But he smiled all the same as Sandrina retorted "Well, I can't say it'll be one _I'll_ play overmuch….." She looked at the armour again and grinned "mayhap I should wear this, just in case?"

"Why do you wear breeches all the time?" this had been bothering Lancelot for some while. "Guinevere wear gowns most of the time and breeches only when she fights."

"I've never stopped fighting; I am always prepared for two things….fight, or flight - in either instance breeches are more practical." She smiled "I have never tried to be a lady, Lancelot, and I would never wish to be one. I am a fighter, that is my lot in life and I have learnt to accept it."

The other knights, though heartfelt sorry she lived her life like that, admired her spirit – her acceptance of the hand fate dealt her; Dagonet said as much.

"What can I do? I have to play the hand I've been dealt to the end of the game Dag; and only pray that I get a few good cards along the way." She smiled "I don't think I'm doing too bad; I've been given all of you…" she looked at Tristan and smiled "you all mean the world to me."

Her eyelids began to sag "come knights" said Arthur "we've stayed over long I fear, time to let her get some rest…" he put a hand up to still her protest "if you will not obey your king, would at least indulge a friend?"

"I could never refuse a friend anything…"

"In _that _case…." Grinned Lancelot mischievously, before being hit by _all_ the others "You know, it isn't bloody fair to gang up on me; you don't play the game like that, it's against the rules…"

"There _are no_ bloody rules!" Bors snorted.

Bethan and Lucan ran in; bouncing onto the bed."Careful boy, that's her damaged side, mind her stitches" warned Dagonet.

Her face lit up like a bright candle, Sandrina waved away his warning "they're alright Dag, honestly…."

'San! You're finally awake…my but you slept long! Days and days, they all thought you were going to die; and Tristan wouldn't leave you, and rowed with anyone who tried to make him - and he has got an awful temper hasn't he? And Bethan would only stay with me or him, not anyone else; because we love her and would protect her - though Tristan said….."

Before he could say any more Dag clamped a hand over his mouth and laughed nervously, as an embarrassed air fell over everyone in the room.

"We should've played the punching game with him too…" muttered Gawain to no on in particular.

All eyes were on Tristan and Sandrina; the scout staring resolutely out the window and the woman looking slightly amazed.

"I….I never dreamt it then?" The question was more at him than the rest of them.

"What?"

"You…all of you actually….calling me back…they called me back too" she indicated the other knights "because of you as much as themselves…but you….you always with me…stopping me from….from…" Her voice trailed to a whisper and faltered.

"Come knights I think it is time we took our leave…." The others followed Arthur out of the room, trailing the children with them, murmuring goodnights as they left.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Nothing to tell…"

"I heard you….calling me back..." she looked at her wrist – the thin piece of fabric still there "you did the tie that binds…"

"Aye, it seemed prudent."

She then noticed her dagger sticking out of the floor close to her bed, though the circle of salt had long been scuffed out of the way "to cut the pain - You did that too?"

"Aye."

"Can I see?"

"What?"

"I don't know, whatever has your undivided attention outside the window."

Chocolate brown eyes calmly swung over to her "I couldn't lose you."

"Just that?"

"Aye, you are with me in here…" he touched his chest "and here" he touched his head.

She smiled "as you are with me….."

He sighed "You are the first thing I think about in the morning, and the last thing I think of at night. I thought I was dying with you these past days."

Brown eyes held blue ones; then he stepped to the bed and knelt down beside her.

"You are for me Sandrina…now and for eternity." He said calmly and with certainty. Then his lips met hers in the lightest of kisses.

"I always have been; my heart and soul, _myself_ is yours…" She put her hands on his chest, strengthened by the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers.

She smiled again "I love you..."

"And I you…"

They kissed again, and this time it was a kiss of belonging. Outside in the night air….Merlin smiled.

0-0-0-0-0

But Fate's game had not finished, there was still more that had to be played out; so once more, Destiny allowed its wheels to move forward.


	10. Love

**_Disclaimer: As before, _please_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Ten – Love_**

'_She loves me'_ that thought, unbelievable as it was, stayed with him all night. The feel of her lips on his, was still with him. He had come so close, _so_ close to losing her….he had felt it; her life ebbing away…and yet…and yet she had come back to him…

He lay next to her, his arms about her – listening to her even breathing as she slept. He held her close, comforted by her warmth and her love.

She moved, and woke; the moonlight shining through the window and saw his eyes, those warm chocolate brown eyes, looking at her full of love. She smiled at him; he leant over and kissed her gently "How fare you?"

"I fare well…."

He touched her side; she felt her skin burn from his touch "does it hurt?"

"Not as much. No more than the other wounds now. But pain is good…."

"Pain makes you realise you're still alive" He smiled, using the words she had herself said earlier that day.

"Are you _jesting_ with me?"

"I do _have _a sense of humour…"

"You _do_?" she smiled mischievously.

"Yes, ask Bethan…she finds me very amusing."

She reached up and tugged one of his plaits "she adores you Tristan. She said you would save me, as I would save you. She wasn't wrong, was she?"

He kissed her again "Nay, and I adore her too; I don't get on with children as a rule…"

"But?"

"But she is different; she is like I would expect my daughter to be if I ever had one. Though I never expected to…"

"She is as good as yours, trust me; she loves you as much as any child would love their father, ask her and she would agree with me."

He hugged her tightly burying his head in her neck, causing her to gasp with pain as his arm brushed her side.

"Sorry…."

"Nay, so long as you continue to hug me I can stand any pain. I love you."

"You've said…and I love you."

"You've said…"

He smiled. "You gave me back something I lost; my humanity…." He kissed her gently "never leave me Sandrina…." And again "never leave me…."

"I won't Tristan…but I can't promise I won't ride into battle with you again. I would give my own life to protect you. But _whatever_ happened to me, I would walk with you….."

He stroked her face, brushing her hair from her eyes, his hand gentle and soothing. "It is who you are, and I love you. I would do the same for you." He gripped her face with his hand, and rested his forehead on hers.

"What? What is it?" she reached up with her good arm and caressed his face.

He turned his head and kissed her palm "when you fell…..I thought…you were so still…and then those five days…it looked as if…"

"But I did not, and you brought me back….I will not desert you Tristan. How can I desert the man I love so much I left Heaven to come back to him?"

He kissed her….deeply. Her arm grasped the back of his head, her fingers twining through his hair; Tristan broke away breathless "You must rest San…"

She grinned, "Mayhap…for _now_…" and wiggled her eyebrows at him.

He laughed out loud "that is the first time I've ever heard you laugh Tristan, and you called me San…"

"I will call you more; you are my heart and soul, now rest - come here."

She moved gingerly towards him, and he once again enfolded her closely in his arms.

"You are mine….." he said possessively as she drifted to sleep; Tristan following her, for the first time in five days, to a peaceful slumber.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The next morning, the rays of dawn filtered through the window – waking Tristan before Sandrina.

He smiled at her _'so it wasn't a dream'_; she was really here, and she loved him.

He felt a presence and stiffened. "Do not fret boy – I am here to check on her only." Merlin spoke from the door as Tristan gently rolled her away from him to stand.

The movement was so fluid and quick, that he almost seemed to just appear standing on the floor.

"You are as she, of nature. She is an elemental, do you understand?"

"You mean the wind on the battlefield, the rain when she was sick, and the animals?"

"Yes, she does not control it; more it guides her, or would if she let it. She loves you boy, more than you will ever know or understand, she went against every instinct she had to protect you…"

"I feel the same."

"I believe you; you are alike in many ways. I know one thing with certainty – she only comes alive when she is with you. You brought her back…..even when _I_ thought she would not return - she did; she came back for you.

I knew when I sent her here that she would be for one of the three she raised, though I did not think it would be you."

"Who?"

"I hoped Lancelot …."

"Lancelot?"

"It would have solved many problems. Problems yet to unfurl on us; but the heart know its own, and the soul cannot ignore the pull of its mate. She may yet stop the black clouds from gathering, she is strong; and the one who can turn from this path follows her closely."

"I will not let her perish old man - I will kill _all_ before me first, regardless of who, even if I must die with them".

Merlin regarded him levelly; gone was the warmth from the boy's eyes, ice replaced it. "Aye, I believe you; though she will not perish, nor will you. But you will have your part to play also, in this game that fate is leading us all into.

Mark this Knight, she _is_ a warrior – her mother _was_ a Briton, I know. She is part Briton, part _Woad_. Her rage can run deep…." he leant close to Tristan and whispered "she can have a bloodlust that would make you quake, should anyone threaten those she cares for; no quarter given, no mercy shown. You will see; you will all see _and _soon, what a warrior that child is."

He caste an eye to Sandrina who was stirring "Child, you feel well?"

"Tristan?"

"Your first thought eh? He is here child; do not fret, where would the scout go if you were not by him?"

Tristan was by her side immediately "He is right, would I leave without you?"

"You might, if Arthur needed you."

He couldn't deny this "True, but I would tell you first."

"You wouldn't have to….I would know."

She wrapped her good arm round his neck and pressed her forehead to his "my heart beats with your heart – my soul winds with yours, my life force is now your own. We function as one….I will always know you Tristan." He kissed her gently.

Merlin understood the charm she had run, probably without realising it; she seemed to have little knowledge of her heritage. She had now tied her soul to his for all eternity, even after death. He drew Tristan aside and told him.

Without answering him the knight knelt down and repeated the charm to Sandrina, then looked at Merlin and said calmly "it is as it should be, we are for each other."

Merlin merely nodded and then set to tending Sandrina's wounds. They were meant, they were; and they would be a force to be reckoned with…he could only thank the fates they were working on the side of good.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Fate continued to play its game, and Destiny allowed its wheels to move forward once more.


	11. Rage and Passion

**_Disclaimer: As before, _please_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Eleven – Rage and Passion_**

After Merlin left, Tristan once again curled protectively around Sandrina. They were just dozing when a small voice could be heard coming into the room "Mama? Tristan? Can I come in with you? I missed you…."

Tristan raised his head and looked at the child; brown eyes regarded blue ones, then he smiled "come Bethan, come and rest with us..." San's words fell into his memory _'she loves you as much as any child could love their father…'_

The girl crawled between them as Tristan made room. She quickly settled, carefully so as not to disturb her mother, and a contented sigh left her lips "I have come home…."

He felt his heart contract. Sometimes he was not sure he liked the emotions these two females provoked in him; but he also knew, as sure as day turned to night, he would rather die this moment than have his life as it was before them.

This was how Sandrina found them all when she awoke a few hours later; snuggled together, one of Tristan's arms casually slung over them both. Bethan tucked contentedly into him, her head against his chest, bunching his shirt in her hand, almost as a comforter; his hand holding her own arm his fingers stroking it in his sleep, she wondered absently if this motion was what woke her? She smiled, _'a family…could they really be a family?'_ She saw the contented look on Tristan's face, and the smile playing on her daughter's lips as she slept_. 'They could be…if fate let them…they could'._

But she also knew now what Merlin had been trying to tell her – she felt the rage in her, if _anyone_ threatened those she loved; this _life_ she had come to love, she would kill them - cut them down with no remorse.

Her strength of feeling frightened her, but also empowered her; she felt a strange emotion awakening in her. A strength she never knew she possessed, and realised this was how she had survived so long - they would never know the full extent of her treatment at the hands of Marius, and others, over the years. What good would it serve? Most were dead by her hand, and those that weren't had probably perished at the hands of others.

"I have come home….." she smiled, a deep smile that touched her heart.

Tristan opened his eyes at her voice "and you will never leave."

Dagonet knocked the door "Is Bethan there Tris? Lucan's looking for her, he woke and she was gone."

"She is. Do you want her?"

"Only if she wishes to keep Lucan company."

Bethan nodded sleepily, kissed her mother and rested her forehead on Tristan's and got off the bed "I am coming Dag, is he with you?"

"Oh Bethan, I was so worried! Next time tell me!" cried a frantic Lucan, distraught at waking to find his playmate and constant companion missing.

Sandrina and Tristan exchanged a knowing look "it seems as if there is another attachment forming" she said.

"He is a good boy…she could do worse."

"Do you know why she does that?"

"What?"

"Rests her forehead on yours? She rarely does that with anyone; I and Lucan are the only others she shares that closeness with."

"Closeness? Surely a kiss is more affectionate?"

"Nay, not to Bethan – she values eye contact. She believes the eyes are the windows to the soul. By having eye contact that close, she believes that you can see her soul and she can see yours. She believes souls can touch; she, as she told me once, believes by doing that her soul kisses yours."

Tristan's calm face remained passive and he said nothing, but inside his heart contracted once more. "As I said Tristan, she loves you deeply – I truly believe she would mourn you full as much as I, should you ever perish."

Something about what she said brought Merlin's words to mind, and he told her what had been said between them; no bitterness in his voice as he told her Lancelot had been Merlin's first choice for her….

At first she was angry that Merlin would be like that; but then thought if there were to be problems involving Lancelot, she could see why the shaman would think it _would_ be better for her to be with the other knight. But she could not help loving the one her soul cried out to be with.

She stroked Tristan's face as he watched the conflicting emotions do battle within her.

"He spoke the truth Sandrina, that is all. But what problems could there be where you would be better with Lancelot?"

"Hmm" she looked thoughtful "I had wondered….I have seen the looks exchanged sometimes between Guinevere and Lancelot. Arthur is a good man, but rarely shows the passions that Guinevere feels. Lancelot is _all_ passion."

"Do you think they would betray Arthur?"

"I don't know…not now, nay. But if I think things are changing I _will_ intervene. I feel all our fates depend upon them remaining true to Arthur." She hugged him "but it is not something to be concerned with now. Naught will probably happen, they are good people and both love Arthur dearly."

However, both of them lay for some minutes mulling certain memories in their minds. Knowing how powerless they felt to resist _their_ feelings for each other, they who had rigid control over themselves; could they honestly expect anyone else to fare better?

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Later that day, she was trying to rise when Lancelot came in "What are you doing _now_? You nearly died not two days ago and now you are trying to get up…is the bed really so abhorrent to you that you feel unable to stay in it a moment longer, even with your beloved scout beside you!"

She laughed and them grimaced "Do not cause me mirth Lancelot, it hurts me! As for Tristan, he is gone to do exactly that – scout. So there is no reason to lie abed any longer! But then I would expect a connoisseur of beds such as yourself not to understand that; it is a shame brother, that your own bed does not always charm you as much as the ones near the tavern!"

"_Vixen_! If your sword were as sharp as your tongue we would all be in mortal danger!" he laughed.

"Brother….I…." she touched his arm.

"Not to worry, sister….we are all more than glad you are returning to yourself, but I do think today is not a good day to rise. You can barely stand, and Tristan would kill us all for allowing it; do you want our blood on your hands over this?"

She laughed, and grimaced again "I swear you do it on purpose! Nay, I will sit a spell then." she sat down and pondered for a moment. "Lancelot… you would remain true to Arthur, wouldn't you? I know Guinevere is….such a lady; not like others…but she is…" she tailed off unsure what to say, though her eyes spoke reams.

He looked puzzled "I am many things Sister, but no betrayer to my King and my friend; he who is as much brother to me as you are sister. She was…_is_…special to me, I admit that. But I would not…._could_ not…but if you feel..._ever_…..that some unspoken line is being crossed, well then – tell me; though I may not be polite about hearing it!"

The fact that he did not rail and argue concerned her, it meant the thought _had_ crossed his mind; but at least she had his blessing to ensure it remained _there_…in his mind.

0-0-0-0-0-0

The days passed, and finally the knights relented and let her leave the bed; she was almost mad with the confinement - she had not been constrained like this for a very long time, and found it difficult to deal with.

Tristan found her one morning struggling to get dressed as she paced around the room.

"You should not be up."

"I should not be abed…._ I.am.going.mad_ confined like this Tristan. It is wrong to cage a living thing so…" she was very agitated.

"It is…it is…but you must be well. You are of no use to anyone if you die…" he turned to fetch some weapons from his kit, he was to spar with Gawain for a short while.

"Why must you _always_ be so bloody reasonable!" Her temper had started to rise "Who cares if I die!"

He spun round and gripped her tightly by the shoulders, his eyes glared even as his voice remained even and his face passive "All of us care…**_I_** care."

"If dead I would free; I cannot stand this…_prison_ any longer, I am _not_ used to being shut up so!"

With one swift movement he swept her up into his arms and walked outside with her to the courtyard.

The breeze immediately blew in her face, the horses in the stables stamped and whinnied and the hawk circled overhead calling a greeting to her.

She closed her eyes and drank in the fresh air, the feeling of freedom; then looked up at the blue sky; saw the hawk wheeling high….then all too soon it was at an end…

"Come, let me see to your wounds..." and he returned her to her…no, _their_….room – for he had not left her at night since the battle, and she doubted he ever would now.

She relented; as he stood her back on the floor she lifted her sleeve. He saw the one on her arm had healed nicely and the one on her leg was healing well too, its stitches had been removed the day before. Then he checked her side, that too was looking very good, _'the stitches could come out tomorrow'_ he thought.

"One more day San…one more day…that is all…"

"I'm sorry I was cruel…but…."

"You hate being shut up…I think I got that…" a small smile ghosted his lips.

"_Another_ joke?"

"As I've said, I _do_ have a sense of humour. Is it because of Marius?"

"Yes…there were many things he said to me, as well as did….."

"Like what?"

"He told me he would make sure I would never see the sun again – he would make me so ugly, no man would ever want me or love me….."

"He was wrong - _I_ love you; with every beat of my heart and every breath that I take."

She touched his face "I love you too…full as much."

He smiled and kissed her. "Just one more day San" he said against her mouth.

0-0-0-0-0-0

The following morning at daybreak Merlin came to remove her stitches; he was pleased to see her recovering so well. Things were stalling with her away from the knights, fate had set things in motion; but for the game to be played out, _all_ the players had to be present.

As soon as the stitches were out, San was up and dressing "Be careful child, you must still watch that wound on your side."

"I will, I will…." She was impatient to be outside - the breeze blew through the window.

"It calls to you…"

"Aye…aye, it does. It always has…I never understood before..."

"But you do now?"

"A little, Tristan makes it easier; he is so……still. I think he could see a blade of grass growing…" she smiled and shook her head in wonder at the man she loved so "he makes me more and more aware of the natural world around us. He was teaching me, before this" she indicated her side "to fight with instinct; not anger or planning, just instinct."

Merlin was pleased; he could see now why fate had chosen the scout for her. Her elemental abilities would help her be a better fighter and healer, but the scout would teach her to be a more effective _warrior_; and a warrior was what this game needed. Not just on the battlefield; nay, someone to fight to preserve this new beginning, to thwart the evil that was gathering on the horizon, was going to have to be a warrior.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A few days later Sandrina had a chance to prove what a fighter she was……

She had been helping at the tavern; Arthur had ensured she was placed there almost permanently now. He felt that way she could be with the knights, and one in particular, as much as possible; with the odd stint in the stables purely to ensure the horses were happy. If she did not go there regularly to see them, they would become fractious and difficult to handle, even the knights' mounts.

She had been clearing up, when she had heard an altercation between Vanora and a very drunken man. She was unsure as to who he was, only that he was being very abusive –something about one of the children knocking his drink and he wanting a free refill.

However, Vanora was not easily cowed – too used to these drunken brutes "Shut up! I saw not a drop spilled!"

"Whore! Give me more ale; but free, or I will be free with my blade!"

Vanora ignored the idiot and stalked outside to throw the night's few broken crocks away. Sandrina saw the drunk and a crony of his follow her; a sharp breeze blew round her, sending chills down her spine. The feeling of dread was there once more, and she flew the way Vanora went.

Tristan immediately sensed her change of stance even before she started moving towards the back of the tavern. She passed him with a face of ice, and he immediately started to follow; the others, although drunk, sensed something was amiss and began to rise with him…

Sandrina came out of the back of the tavern as the larger man; the one Vanora had argued with, backhanded her across the face. The other woman, well used to abuse from customers, stood her ground which only enraged him more; sensing this, with one swift movement she was in front of Vanora pushing her out of the way.

"Leave her be and walk away, and you will live through this night…both of you." She said mildly, glancing at his friend and marking his position.

"You think you would best _me_ wench! You think _you_ would _win_!"

She glanced at Vanora "_run_!" she muttered. The other woman fled shouting "ROOOUUSSS" as she went, trying to raise the knights unaware they were already approaching. "Aye...I do."

"Go ahead little woman, take your best shot…." He grinned to his friend.

A breeze started to blow gently around her; Sandrina threw her left arm out as if going to hit him with it, but punched him square in the face with her right - breaking his nose. She then grabbed his head by his ears and head butted him. As he fell to the floor, she sensed a movement and her right arm flashed out - holding her dagger to the other man's throat.

"_Don't_ upset me…."

The other man stammered and stuttered, raising his hands up in submission instantly. She pocketed her dagger and spat on the man on the ground, now trying to rise, blood pouring from his nose "_Scum!_"

As she started walking away, she felt him rise behind her; her hands already at her back as he swung her round by the left shoulder "No woman beats me, you'll lose…"

As she rotated round she stepped back and drew her daggers "on the contrary" she stepped forward cutting his throat with her left hand, "_I_" then stabbing him in the chest with her right "_win_".

Sensing someone approaching her from behind; her body pivoted and her left arm swung round automatically dropping the dagger held in it and grasping the other man by the neck "and _you_" cutting his throat with her right hand "_lose_".

She let him drop to the ground and bent to retrieve her other dagger.

She glanced and saw the first man feebly grasping his neck with one hand and trying to grab at her ankle, she stepped back onto his arm viciously with her left heel before swinging round "_you_" stabbing him through the heart with her right hand "should have walked away" she told him mildly.

Finally knowing both men were dead, she bent to wipe her bloody blades on the legs of her breeches. A movement in front of her caught her eye and she looked up to see all the knights standing there open mouthed "Knights! What? _What?_"

"Remind me never to upset you, sister…" Lancelot smiled; all had sobered up quickly in anticipation of a fight, but had quickly realised they were not needed "you have a fiery temper on you."

"I will brother, but you will not listen I'll wager!" she grinned and walked away.

As she came level with Tristan he nodded proudly. "Fought well and with precision."

Bors grabbed her and hugged her tightly, causing her to gasp in pain. "Bors, my side….my…side…"

"Sorry, sorry" he let go immediately and stepped back "I was just so grateful - I couldn't lose my Van…she is the only one who would suffer me, bear my brats…" Vanora hugged him, knowing what he was really saying.

"It is alright, just a little sore." San lifted her shirt - the scar was a vivid red, but no damage was done. "Merlin says it will be a little while before all is healed completely inside the wound. So long as you don't squeeze me to death, it will be well!" She laughed.

She walked on as Tristan caught her up, trailing fingers across her cheek "you did well."

"They were drunk…."

"Not _that_ drunk….you fought well. You did as I taught you; you stayed calm and aware of your surroundings – sensing them. We will make a knight of you yet."

"I'd be content to be a scout - one as good as the man who serves Arthur." She smiled, then grimaced as a yawn overcame her "I am tired".

"We should go home then, Bethan will wonder if we've abandoned her" He kissed her deeply, ignoring the cheers of the other knights as they came into view.

"I know one knight who will be a happy man on the morrow!" crowed Lancelot.

"Well, it won't be you!" laughed Sandrina "For I saw Lynette leaving with Morgan from the Smithy not five minutes ago. Maybe if you go and beg, she _might_ let you _watch_."

"_Harpy_! One day that sharp tongue of yours will cut you!" cried Lancelot in mock outrage.

The other knights roared with laughter at the exchange; their San was back.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Minutes later San checked on the other children and Bethan in the smaller of the two rooms. "Mama? Did you fight?" asked Bethan.

"Why?"

"You have blood on your face…"

Sandrina wiped her face "It is not mine, but someone else's. I was helping Vanora…."

"Did you win?"

"Aye."

"Good; what shall we dream of Mama?"

The nightly ritual had begun; Tristan never tired of hearing it. The way she described it; you could almost feel the wind on your face and the sun on your back, hear the birds singing, the rumble of thunder and see the crackling lightening in the sky……..

"What do we always dream about little one? A wide open plain and us riding as fast as our horses will gallop across it; the sun on our backs, blue sky above us and the wind in our face, the freedom that comes with being able to run as far and as fast as you wish with no one to hinder you.

The solitude of a quiet wood with no disturbance save your own thoughts and the call of a bird; the excitement of a thunderstorm, where the thunder calls your name and writes your dreams in the lightening.

That is what you should dream about Bethan; what I _always_ dream about…."

The silence told her that once again her daughter, like the others, was finally asleep. She leant across and kissed her hair "and to know that there are at least _two _people in this world that cares if I died tonight. You fill my soul with pride and my heart with love Bethan….because of you I have not lost all faith in mankind, and I found the courage to love." She turned to Tristan "You …."

They went into the other room; he watched her gingerly easing off her tunic.

"Let me help you…"

He helped her out of it, his touch sending burning sensations down her neck as his fingers brushed her skin.

She turned to him; his eyes full of passion he dipped his head and kissed her "are you well?"

She knew what he was asking "I am _very_ well!" and wiggled her brows; he smiled against her lips.

"I love you San…you are my soul…" this time the kiss was deeper and longer, leaving them both breathless in its wake. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed her eyes, her cheeks and her mouth before trailing burning kisses down her neck…..

He picked her up and carried her to the bed "I promise to be gentle," he whispered.

"I know you would be nothing else with me, ever…." They lay on the bed for some time just enjoying once again their closeness, their warmth, their kisses as they had every night since she'd come back to him.

He kissed her "Never leave me San…" She arched her head as his hands and lips began to explore each and every scar….

"Never, not even Heaven could keep me from you……"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Hours later, spent and happy – they lay twined in each others arms. She was his completely now….in every way; as far as God, the Heavens, or any deity was concerned they were together for eternity.

Sandrina was too happy to immediately notice the distant rumble of thunder……

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Fate now had all the players….so its game begins; and Destiny allowed its wheels to turn forward, this time down a _different_ path.


	12. Gathering Storm

**_Disclaimer: Same as before. I have tried to make sure Tristan remains slightly truer to character, thanks for the feedback on that, as I agree I was giving him too much to say! I hope I've succeeded._**

**_There will be loneliness and despair for Lancelot to come….two choices for him, a VERY sad ending or happy one (NOT with San do not worry)…any advice on which way to go?_**

_**Lancelot and Dagonet will start to feature more as the reason they are all brought back starts to play out.**_

**_Stoner Pyro: Awww, you are such a sweetie…I don't honestly think it's that good, or that I am that talented, but it is very nice of you to say so. I will be writing more for a while yet as the main story has yet to be told so I hope you stick with it, and continue to like it as much! Thanks again for being so kind….._**

'—' _**signifies thoughts.**_

"—" _**signifies speech.**_

**_To all my reviewers…Hope you continue to like it enough to stick with it. _**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

**_A bit more fluff dotted throughout the chapter…but back to the bloodletting too!_**

**_Anyway…on with Chapter twelve! Which I hope you still like!_**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Twelve – Gathering Storm_**

Sandrina was too happy to immediately notice the distant rumble of thunder…… then a gust of wind blew the window open, and a shiver ran down her spine.

"A storm's gathering" Tristan said hugging her, and then going to shut the window latch.

"Yes, and not just outside" the wind swirled around her, pricking at her mind.

She paled visibly and leapt up, shrugging on her breeches and shirt...

"Where are you going?"

"Come with me, I will have need of you…." She grabbed his hand and tugged him after her.

"What did the wind tell you?"

"Its what it made me feel that concerns me….the storm that is gathering…..it will be grave if we cannot stop the evil about to be played out."

"Then I will come…"

She rubbed a hand over her eyes 'Dear God, please, _please _let me stop the game before that hand must be played….please let me be the protector I feel I am, let me save one I hold so dear to me. I do not know if I have the strength to carry out _that _task.' But deep down, she knew she had…..

Merlin watched them leave……so the game had finally begun……

As they reached Lancelot's room, so did Guinevere. She looked surprised to see both Sandrina and Tristan coming towards her, and a little annoyed.

"My queen, should you not be with your _husband?_" Sandrina smiled; emphasising the last word, and was rewarded with a blush.

"Arthur is working; I thought I would visit with one of our knights; and our _friends_."

"I see, then we too would welcome a visit with you, let us all go in…."

Lancelot was surprised to see an annoyed Guinevere, a concerned Sandrina and a baffled Tristan troop into his room. He was lying on his bed drinking ale, stripped to the waist 'and looking so lonely' Sandrina thought.

"Brother! We have taken pity and decided to visit with you - for after your comments of earlier, we felt we could not have you spend a night alone!"

"I'll have you know, wench, I spend many alone….well, a few anyway!" he grinned mischievously, pleased to see one so dear to him.

But Guinevere's presence disturbed him; Sandrina's words of earlier returning to him, and he suddenly realised that was why she was there.

"Is all well sister? I wonder if you think the line is fading in the sand already?"

"Yes, but not by your hand…..which poses a problem; which way to bring it back and ensure that others stay on the right side of their divide?"

"I see…Well, I am happy to draw the line again – but with your help." He smiled a sad smile that wrenched at her heart and, for one brief moment, made her sad that fate had not chose him for her "For I do not think I have the strength to do it alone…."

Tristan realised immediately what was being discussed, and all became clear "You are never alone Lancelot...have we not gone through even death together?"

The other knight smiled and gripped the scout's arm "Yes, we three and Dagonet….we have traversed the darkness and returned. No, do not shake your head San; you too went with Death, though you returned via a different path to us."

San smiled at Tristan "I returned because I could not be without my scout. How could I find my way in Heaven without him?

I bless God for the day he let Merlin's charm work. I have friends, _brothers_, I would defend to the end – a man I love more than my own life….no, no, I am not ashamed to say it, for I only speak true; and I would have not known _you_ my brother, as close to me as my own blood."

Lancelot hugged her, whispering in her ear "and I thank Merlin for sending you to us…I will not survive this trial without you my sister…._my_ blood" then turned to Guinevere "My Lady, I fear we bore you with our sweet words?" he smiled sardonically at her, sarcasm in his words, though it cut him deeply to do so.

"No, not at all Knight – I find it touching that warriors such as you can still allow love and companionship into hearts that are so covered with death." She spoke more sharply than she had intended, stung by his tone.

"No more than yours, my Lady. I do remember the battles that traversed our path, particularly Baden Hill. Your bloodlust was as clear to see as anyone's."

"Perhaps, but I have laid all that aside….now…."

"Now you are Arthur's…._wife_ and queen….and fortunate you are to have _loyal _knights such as we to kill for you." He ensured she understood him, she belonged to another and not just any other – his King, his Commander and his best friend; he would not betray him…..he hoped he would not….

He would fight these emotions to the last, and he knew Sandrina and Tristan would help him. He felt the fear emanating from Sandrina as to the consequences if he did not; but he was still certain without her he may not have the strength to fight the feelings his heart cried out to speak.

"I have tarried too long – I will take my leave…. A word Sandrina…." They stepped out together.

Tristan and Lancelot exchanged a look "It is hard my friend, why does a heart have to hurt so over a woman?"

"I do not know; in my case I hate it…but would not be without her. But you do right; you cannot steal another's mate – especially in this case."

"No, no….you are right…but still…"

"Sandrina fears for the outcome Lancelot….I feel she will have a terrible task to carry out if you weaken to your feelings."

"I know; what is it she is always saying?"

"Fear is good; it keeps you guard up and your wits about you. Only a fool drops his guard". A smile from both knights.

"Then I must not be that fool….."

Outside Guinevere drew Sandrina away, as the latter set Midnight on guard at Lancelot's door "do not let anyone pass this threshold save other knights Midnight" The dog immediately lay down, his eyes watchful.

"Are we friends?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me what you fear so much that you set your dog to guard his door?"

"You."

"I? What can I do? I do not wish to harm him…I only wish…."

"I know what you wish and it cannot be…you belong to another…and do not try to say I am wrong, I am not. I know the game fate wishes us all to play; Merlin told me but says Destiny has a different path for us all to follow, and I _must_ ensure that path is followed – for the good of Briton."

"And if….if I do not listen?"

"Then I will be forced into a task I would rather cut my hands off than carry out….but if you force me, I _will_ find the strength to do it."

Guinevere blanched as the meaning became clear…."You would _not_…you _could_ not!"

"I would hate it, I would mourn, I would curse it to my last breath – but I _would_ do it…it is my destiny to protect, and I will do so…." She drew a ragged breath "I do not beg easy Guinevere…but _please_ do _not_ force my hand."

"I will try Sandrina….I will try; I am strong willed and I love Arthur dearly…but…"

"I know…and that is the pity of it…but you have made your choice….and now the die is caste there is no going back. You were born to be a queen Guinevere, it is your destiny. But with that destiny comes sacrifice…only do not let the sacrifice be others."

The two women embraced, the fear of one transferring to the other; who only prayed that she had the strength to remain true to one, and release the heart of the other….before it was too late.

Fate's game had now begun, but the players had won this first round, though the principal battle for the futures of the main participants had yet to be decided; Destiny's chosen path was looming and so its wheels turned…..


	13. Children and Demons

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O) The names Ivo and Ela are 13th C. names, but I felt they fitted this period quite well._**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Thirteen – Children and Demons_**

Odell, Merlin's Lieutenant, came to him "we have urgent need of Arthur's aid!"

"Why? I have not seen another insurgence of Celts…"

"Nay, it is not the Celts this time!" He shook his head angrily "A roman settlement is having problems with a Bishop from Rome. He is proving to be vicious all in the name of his leader and their Christian God; he is imprisoning and torturing these people.

I would not normally defend a roman, but they have elected to remain and become Britons; I will not let them feel they are not one of us and we will not defend them. If we are to keep this Briton united as you and Arthur desire, then we must fight for _all_ people."

Merlin nodded gravely "Your words are wise as always Odell - I will speak to Arthur…."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Arthur agreed with him "he speaks true Merlin, we cannot pick and choose who we defend - and these people consider themselves Britons now, as do I. I will speak to the knights immediately."

Sat at the round table, with Odell, Arthur explained the situation to the knights "I know you may not wish to do this, they were Romans, _but_ they are now Britons and we have to uphold the unity of this country."

"A fight's a fight, eh knights! I was getting bored sat on me arse trying to find a village to become a chief of anyway - we 'aven't 'ad a good battle since…." His voice tailed off, as he realised their last battle was when Sandrina nearly died.

Tristan glared; but Sandrina who, like Guinevere and Merlin, now also sat at the table - and who was accepted as a member of any battle party, smiled at him "Bors has a point - and we need to help these people be free."

"But you are also a Christian, aren't you?" Asked Lancelot.

"I believe in _God_….I do _not_ believe in the 'holy mother church'. It is run by corrupt and evil men; who use the new religion to intimidate and torture, to achieve their own ends and gain riches. I cannot save the world from them, but I am more than happy to stop them at least inflicting their shameful corruption on people _here_."

"I fear I touched a nerve…."

"Aye, why do you think Marius did half of what he did? Because a Bishop from the 'holy mother church' told him he could! I will not let others suffer as I have…." She was angry, all mirth gone from her.

"We will not kill priests – it would go against our beliefs." warned Arthur.

"_Our_ beliefs are not those of the knights and the Woads, Arthur; and _I_ will not be governed by a belief that allows corrupt and evil men to torture others for their own sick ends. I will kill _anyone_ that inflicts unnecessary pain and suffering, regardless of their 'connections'!" Her voice, though low and controlled, dripped icy anger.

"But we need to realise that though _some_ are corrupt, _most _connected with the Church are good men. We cannot just kill indiscriminately…."

"_I_ won't be – _I_ will be killing only those that deserve to die because of what they've done to others. I will _not_ be swayed Arthur; if the priests and Bishop have done naught wrong, then they will not need to fear me - but if Odell is correct….well, I will deal with them. What the others do, is up to them……"

Mutterings round the table proved the others agreed with Sandrina.

Arthur sighed and looked to the other knights "what say you Knights? Do you ride?"

"AYE!"

They rose to leave the meeting room "Spoken like a true knight!" cried Bors, slapping Sandrina on the back, once they were outside.

"Yes, I think Arthur becomes too stately these days…." Added Galahad.

Sandrina rounded on him "he has to see the bigger view Galahad; just because I disagree with his opinion, does not mean that I would speak badly of him behind his back!"

Galahad raised his hands in submission "San I meant no offence, merely that I agreed with you…"

Mollified, she left. Tristan turned to the other knights "she has her own demons to deal with I think…"

The others nodded "They will make her fight well!" said Bors, always looking at the battle first.

"She does that already; remember those men who attacked Vanora, would any of us have dealt with them better!" Said Dagonet.

The others again agreed – she was a good fighter, they had all witnessed her skills.

Arthur came over "I have never questioned her loyalty to me any more than I would question yours. She is an honourable woman, and I respect her opinion even though I do not agree with it. She speaks her mind, which is not a fault in my eyes – I prefer honesty.

Advise me on the outcome on your return. You leave at first light."

Tristan left to seek her out; he found her in their room explaining to the children still in her care, Ivo (aged 5) and Ela (aged 6); along with Bethan and Lucan, what would be happening the next day….

"He is a bishop of Rome – but he is not a man of God; he is cruel and heartless to those in his care. That is what Odell says, and I do not have reason to doubt his word."

"Why do you go?" this from Lucan.

"We ride to ensure the people of this village are safe and unmolested; even by a Bishop."

"Will you kill him and his followers?" asked Bethan.

"If I have to; I will send him on his way, though if the rumours about him are true – it will not be to Heaven where his soul will tarry".

"You will be safe for us? You'll not let naught harm befall you again?" Ivo showed his concern.

The other knights, and Odell, had joined Tristan at the door; curious as to why he would not enter – he shushed them. He never tired of watching San interact with children; he himself was never that comfortable with them, except Bethan - but she was an exceptional child.

But San was always brutally honest and treated them like adults as much as possible.

"I will do my best, but I cannot promise Ivo. But I am your Sandrina; it is my destiny to protect _you_, and I _will_ do my best to return to you." The words repeated so many times rolled off her tongue, with the same conviction as always.

Inwardly, Sandrina sighed; she knew this to be untrue – she had a different destiny now, a harsher one to secure. But the children were always comforted by that speech – and it was not a true lie in reality; for she _would_ return to them somehow, to walk with them through their life.

"You are more than a protector San. My mother called you an angel before she passed…" Ivo spoke.

She had to bow her head to hide the smile "I have been called many things in my life Ivo, _many_ things…" there were sniggers outside the door, which she ignored – though shuddered at the ribbing she would get once in their company again "but none have called me angel. I think your mother was mistaken, she was a good woman and I well remember you were her only concern as she lay dying – I think _she_ was the angel."

"_I_ think she was right; you're an angel to _me_…" she kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair as she always did. She settled them all down to sleep and responded as always to Bethan's request of what they should dream of.

"I see why Merlin thinks she is part Briton" Said Odell, hearing her describe what she dreamed of "she has a woadish way about her for a Sarmatian woman. But who is this one she loves apart from her daughter?"

"I."

"Then you are indeed a fortunate man…."

"As I am a fortunate woman" San emerged from the room, smiling at Tristan – she ran a hand idly across his shoulders as she passed; a careless gesture, but one that left no one there oblivious to their intimacy "he is my life's blood; without him I would not exist." She smiled at Tristan who remained as passive as always, yet none could mistake the depth of feeling in his eyes as he stared at her.

"The Tavern?" asked Bors, breaking the moment.

"So _angel_ do we bow before you, or merely prostrate ourselves as you pass?" Asked Lancelot, with a wicked grin "can I _cope_ with being the brother of a near deity?"

"Lancelot I will allow you this one moment of madness; but test my humour again and I _will_ have to kill you. You told me not so long ago to remind you to do naught to upset me, and I am doing so now…." She spoke sternly, but there was humour in her voice.

"Aye and you also said I would not listen, and you were right!" Was the gleeful reply.

She punched his arm as they all walked on, laughing and tomenting each other.

Tristan pulled her back "do not let your temper get the better of you with the Bishop, San. Deal with him as you dealt with those men who molested Vanora, only then can you hope to win."

"I will do as you suggest Tristan. You are right, but if this Bishop is who I think it is; well, it will be difficult – you may yet see a side to me you will not want to remain with, nor love."

"There is naught of you I would not wish to live with, nor would I not love with all my heart, body and soul San."

They kissed, amid much jeering from the other knights.

Odell drew Lancelot to one side "She is your sister? She is a fighter? I have heard of her from Merlin, but do not know overmuch - and if we are to ride together then I feel I must know more to be able to trust her."

"She is my sister in all ways that count; she guides me, loves me and supports me. She is as much my blood now as if my own mother birthed her. She raised me, Tristan and Dagonet from the dead on Merlin's orders, and she has been there for us every day since.

She nearly sacrificed her own life to come to our aid, as she felt there was a threat to us. The wound that nearly killed her was taken to protect Tristan.

Any one of us would gladly sacrifice ourselves equally as much to save her. She and Tristan are true soul mates; I cannot say in the beginning I was not saddened she did not want me, as was Dagonet.

But we cannot argue that fate and destiny knew what they were doing joining these two. Their love is hard to ignore, and they are of similar temperaments.

I will correct Merlin on one fact – she is not merely a fighter; she is a _warrior_. If we have any say, on our return, we wish Arthur to make her one of us, a knight – for we believe she truly deserves it. You can trust her Odell, she will not betray you."

The other knights overhearing, agreed "she saved my Vanora; butchered those animals like cattle! Without any help from us!" cried Bors.

Odell raised an eyebrow; Lancelot explained "That is indeed impressive for a woman to wield a dagger so."

"Get her to do Tris's trick, Galahad" said Gawain, as they reached the tavern.

"You know she won't if we ask her…."

"Then just do it; she won't be able to resist besting you, she never does…"

She didn't; Odell laughed at Galahad's mock indignation and her delight at beating him.

"She is skilled, there is no question. You are all very fond of her."

"Yes, she is very dear to us." Dagonet spoke.

"Then I will be proud to ride with her and fight by her side if necessary" was the Woad's reply.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

None were prepared for what they found at the village 2 days later, nor were they prepared for Sandrina's reaction………..

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The ride there had been uneventful. She had spent most of it with Tristan; though had also rode with the other knights, revelling in being out on Hunter, out in the free air again….

"You are Woad?" Asked Odell, the night they had made camp and had been sat round the fire.

"Nay, Sarmatian. But Merlin thinks my mother was a Briton and Woad. He says I am an elemental. I think mayhap he's right; I feel at one with nature, animals respond to me as if I am one with them, the elements show me the way and aid me.

It is a little overwhelming sometimes; but I always have Tristan - he is the beat of my heart, the breath that I take" she glanced to where he was watching the flames in the fire, absently stroking the hawk who had returned after a successful hunt. As if sensing her gaze he looked up and flashed a smile, she returned it.

"Destiny has smiled on you to give you your soul's mate…not all are so fortunate."

"I am grateful…nay, more than that. I thank God every day that I have him in my life."

"You believe in this Christian God, but accept your Woad heritage, and you would kill men that represent your beliefs - I do not understand?"

"I am 'a contradiction in terms' according to Arthur." She smiled "But I believe in a fundamental right to be free; God has given me my abilities by making my mother a Briton and Woad. I would kill _anyone_ who would harm others. It is really as simple as that."

"Spoken like a true Woad!" Laughed Odell "I can see we will be good friends Sandrina, and I understand now Merlin's affection for you."

Later that night, spooned together – the scout murmured, in his calm way, into her ear "he likes you….the Woad…"

"Aye, he seems to - he is a good man. A good ally, we are fortunate. But only one man will ever own my heart and soul in this life, and eternity…" she turned and kissed him deeply "I am for you Tristan – never forget that…"

She could sense his chocolate brown eyes on her in the darkness; feel his mouth smile against her lips "Good, I thought I might have to kill him….."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

They arrived in the village the next day - what greeted them was beyond reason; men and women starving to death, and hardly a child to be seen.

The wind whipped viciously around San, and she felt the bile rise in her throat. Someone would pay for this, and this day!

The knights watched her face, knowing that she would not settle to 'discuss' the situation as Arthur had hoped. But all felt her way was the right one; Arthur was not here to witness this.

Lancelot was in charge but, on seeing who came to greet them from the main building, it was obvious that Sandrina had taken control in order to deal with a demon of old….someone from her past.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Bishop Germanius came from the building; pale, blustering affability and extreme nervousness; having dealt with the knights before, and hearing of the witchcraft which had brought three of their number back from the dead, he was deeply troubled as he had not asked for Arturious' assistance. However, on spying Sandrina he paled even further - to the point where his assistant, Horton, thought he would faint.

They all looked between the two, Sandrina's face set like stone and the pale and shaking bishop.

"Good Morrow, Bishop!" Lancelot spoke "We are here on _King _Arthur's orders. We heard there were problems here, and on reaching you we see that your people are starving…"

"Though you apparently do not appear to be faring as badly…." ground out Sandrina; and from there, as Lancelot recollected later, the Bishop cast himself out.

"I fare tolerably, dear lady….I.."

Icy eyes regarded him, her voice arctic – but still the anger was there also "Naught _lady_ am I, Bishop Germanius; any more than I was the last time we met. Please do not insult my intelligence by feigning ignorance of my identity. I have obviously not changed sufficiently over the years for you not to recognise one you helped to torment so as a young girl – your pallor proves that point."

"I….I….assure you…" he stammered, seeing the realisation of what Sandrina was saying dawn on the other knights present, and fearing for his safety. They bore him full as much ill will as she.

"So where is the dungeon? Come now, speak up! You were the one that advised Marius to build the oubliettes and the dungeon, to beat me and abuse me, in the name of the 'holy mother church'. I doubt you will not have similar here…"

"I…..I.."

"You cannot speak to his_ Eminence_ like that!" cried his assistant.

In one fluid movement Sandrina was off her horse and had her sword to his throat "he is no _Eminence_! He is a _man_, who serves another _man_; as far as I know, no one has died and made them Gods. Do not test my patience, you will find out very quickly I do not have any." She hissed. The assistant wet himself.

"So much for tact and diplomacy…." Sighed Lancelot.

"San….instinct."

Hearing Tristan's calm voice, Sandrina took a deep steadying breath and dropped her sword to her side. "Take me there…"

"I cannot – it is not permitted. Only the priests go there…"

"Then _get.me.a.priest_!" Villagers came towards them "Why are they starving?"

"There is not enough food for everyone…" stammered the bishop.

"You don't seem too thin." remarked Gawain.

"I am fortunate that God is good to me…..I…"

"Dare you to speak of God when I know what you've been doing, what Marius would do on your advice?"

The knights remembered the villagers there telling them how Marius starved them; but surely not – this supposed 'man of God'?

A priest came up "You wish to see the dungeon, why?"

"Humour me…" Her tone brooked no argument.

The others dismounted and all went to the dungeon in the main house. Unlike the huts round it, this was made of brick – the roman influence was obvious, and the similarities to the likes of Marius' property made her feel sick. Tristan put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

When they went inside the smell was as overpowering as all remembered it; the knights as liberators, San as a prisoner.

The only difference here was who filled it; children……some as young as Ivo, others aged up to about 13. She stopped on the threshold, her heart in her mouth, but her face as impassive as Tristan's.

"Dear God above, who would do this butchery in Your name?" she whispered. Despite her passive stance, her sword at her side – the knights could feel her anger rising further.

"We felt if we could convert the children, then the parents would follow." Murmured the priest, as if that excused what had been done here.

A white hot rage came over Sandrina; memories long since buried came flooding back, almost threatening her sanity. The butchery, the torture, the _pain_; this…this was not acceptable.

Before anyone could move the priest's head rolled across the floor behind him making Gawain step back, the dripping blade in her hand, her head not even turned in his direction as she cut him down where he stood.

A strangled gasp from behind showed that Horton had seen all; turning on him she pinned him against the wall by his hair, holding the still dripping blade against his neck "these children will be released _IMMEDIATELY_! You will give they and their families food; and I want Germanius here…_NOW_!"

Odell, and the other Woads riding with them, disappeared with Gawain and Galahad; dragging the hapless man with them.

San and Dagonet started releasing the children that were still alive; she worked with a mechanical determination that earned her the respect of the Woads, and even more affection from the knights.

Out of 28 children, 10 survived. Germanius was brought to them; even Tristan fought to keep from killing him where he stood, and Dagonet and Bors had to be restrained by the others.

"_This_ is what you do in the name of God, is it Bishop; murder and torture innocent children? You would think, would you not, that this kind of barbarity would stop when it was realised that butchering people will not persuade them to believe in your religion."

"I thought you too believed in the holy mother church…" he gestured to the other knights and Woads with her "I heard them talking…."

"_I_ believe in _GOD_ – NOT the bloody church; and _this_ is why! God would not sanction this brutality in His name and well you know it!

You were sadistic when I was but a young girl of 15 summers and you are still the same. Marius learnt well from you."

"He only tried to teach you to accept the church as the one true faith….."

"Oh, he taught me well, _Bishop_…" she spat the word "he taught me to live with pain so indescribable that you think you are dead; you certainly _pray_ for death.

He taught me men can butcher and defile in the name of religion without _compunction_; and he also taught me that I could live in hell and _survive_.

The one thing he did _not_ teach me was to accept your 'holy mother church'." She spat in disgust.

"The one who taught me to believe in God was his wife. A kind sweet soul; who suffered her own torments at his hands for trying to help me, as well as others; and yet what was it you called her? Ah yes, a milk sop; weak willed and ignorant…."

She smiled malevolently "well, let us see how you endure your own treatment; as your own 'holy mother church' teaches "do unto others, as you would do unto yourself".

With that she shoved him down into an oubliette, clanging the top shut. She leant down so he could see her, before saying utterly emotionlessly, particularly compared to her previous violet outburst "mayhap we'll return……….mayhap we will not." His screams followed them out.

She went to Horton "Make _any_ move to help him and I will see you join him, understand?"

The terrified man merely nodded.

She went outside and confronted the other priests "I want you to bury…." She swallowed "the children and the other dead from the village, then you can help us distribute the food.

If you do not do as I say, I will happily despatch you to hell; for there is no hope of Heaven for you after what you have carried out here." Her voice quiet and still emotionless, her face blank, she held a stillness and menace about her that made even Gawain shudder.

"Who are you to tell us what to do, to say we will be denied eternal rest for doing God's work, you, a _murderer_?" one of the priests said angrily.

Lancelot stepped forward, but Tristan held him back "she is one of them" he muttered "she can use their holy words against them."

"I _am_ a murderer, I have killed in battle and I have killed evil men intent on harming others – but I have _never_ butchered innocents as you have.

Do you _honestly_ believe that you did this in the name of _God_? God may say "suffer the little children to come unto me", but not like _this_….this was nothing more than sheer depravity." She gestured to all the little corpses and sick children lying by them.

"But I will give you a choice - if you _truly_ believe you are without sin, that you only did what God wanted, then stay your ground and let me cut you down where you stand. For you have naught to fear and your place in Heaven assured, yours will be a martyrs death – otherwise, obey me. The choice is yours…."

She stepped back "But, mark me…I _will _kill you – I am a warrior and I live among honourable knights; I make no idle threats, only promises. So decide _holy men_; are you guilty, or innocent?"

The five priests hesitated and then began to move towards the dead – "I thought not" she sneered in disgust "Get some shovels".

She and Dagonet took care of the children that had survived. She herself helped bury the younger ones; she comforted the grieving families of the dead, and handed out food to the survivors in the village.

She sat with one of the families for an age – they had lost two of their children, a little girl of two and a boy of four. Sandrina sat passively as they grieved by their bodies; eventually the emaciated mother turned "why would they do this? I heard you are of the church - do you know why they would do this in the name of your faith?"

"I am _not_ of the church; I believe in God, _not _Rome. I do not believe in butchering people purely because of their beliefs; pagan or otherwise." Looking at the ground she rubbed a grubby hand over her eyes and sighed "the evil that men do in the name of their religion."

The father touched her arm "Thank you…thank you for the good you have done this day."

"I have done naught; mayhap, if we'd got here sooner…." She looked around; defeat evident in her voice.

"You would not have been able to do more than you have; you….you are not roman?"

"Nay, like the knights, I am Sarmatian. I was brought here as a child." She sighed again "I must go, there is still much to do – but if you have need of me; to talk or for any aid, ask any of the knights and they will find me…."

"Do you know how to cope with such loss?" the mother's broken words stopped her.

"Aye, I lost loved ones too, but long ago – you live a moment, you turn that moment into a minute and that minute into an hour, and the hour into a day. Then you live one day at a time. Eventually you will remember them without this" she gestured around her

"But do not let anyone tell you time is a great healer; for they lie. It heals nothing, only makes the pain easier to live with." She smiled a dead smile.

"Who did you lose?"

"My family….."

"Priests…" the woman murmured, shaking her head "they kill so many.."

"Nay - Romans…. They came – they killed my brother, burnt my village, wiped out my tribe."

"You must hate us…." The woman looked shocked.

"Why would I? You were not there; you did not hold the sword that killed my brother, or the torch that burnt my village. I cannot hate those who are not to blame." she said levelly. '_Though I can want retribution on those that did'_ she thought. She rose to leave…

The woman touched her arm "thank you…."

Sandrina sank down again in one fluid movement, so quickly it made the woman jump; not keeping eye contact, though the woman could see the bright blue orbs looking at her, she said gruffly "Do not thank me Lady….I could not prevent this evil, nor save more….you have naught to thank me for." Rising and turning in one, she left the startled woman behind her.

Tristan and Odell overheard the whole exchange; their hearts tight at the suffering in her voice.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Not once through that whole dreadful day did she shed a tear; such was her rigid control over her emotions. But the rage and anguish in her face touched everyone there.

Later that night, the knights and Odell found her sitting quietly in the darkened dungeon listening to the Bishop gibbering, crying and screaming in the darkness; a thin smile on her face…..

"San, what are you doing here?" Asked Tristan, kneeling before her.

She looked at him with vacant eyes "I want to hear him scream, to see him suffer. I was stronger than he; it was 10 days before _I _was like that…" she said matter-of-factly, as he gently helped her to her feet and led her out.

The other knights all exchanged looks, they'd had no idea she could be so coldly vengeful.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

In the middle of the night, they were all awoken by terrified screams; all the knights came running to the room Tristan and San were using.

She was sat up in the bed, her eyes wide open but obviously in the grip of an extreme nightmare. Tristan was speaking gently to her, but could not get her to wake.

In the end he swept her into his arms and carried her, struggling, biting and scratching past the others and outside; ignoring the blows, bites and scratches she dealt him. The breeze picked up the moment they stepped out and it began to rain; a fine misty rain. The hawk wheeled high into the night sky, keening; Midnight whined and the horses whinnied quietly. It was as if the animals and the elements themselves were trying to comfort her and free her from her demons.

The combination of those and Tristan's quiet, calm and reassuring voice finally woke her and brought her back to sanity. However, amidst her screams they had all gathered enough of what happened to her to realise the Bishop was no real man of _any_ God or Church, and neither was Marius.

Even Odell, well used to seeing the extremes of Roman brutality, as was Merlin, was shocked at what she'd endured. The other knights, who all loved her as one of their own, could only wonder that she had retained _any_ sanity under that kind of savage brutality.

But three knights in particular were struggling to control their own need for revenge. Tristan's whole body was still with the effort to control his need to shed blood; Lancelot stood gripping and un-gripping his hand on his dagger, his face set like stone; and Dagonet stood with the a stricken look of anguish, gently moving his axe at his side.

All present exchanged a look – and a silent agreement was reached.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

In the morning, San went down to the dungeons to confront the Bishop once more; only to find him gone. She was told he had escaped in the night, and it was assumed it was one of the priests who had released him. Despite what they thought she would say, she never made any comments about trying to find him.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Sandrina didn't believe them….she knew they had killed him; she had vague recollections about her nightmare. She realised that they had found out much of what she had endured; at least whilst at Marius'. They had taken her revenge for her; she went round the knights and kissed them and hugged them - even Odell and the other four Woad warrior men and women with them.

"Thank you for……..trying to find him; but I doubt he will be missed, even by his 'holy mother church'." And she was right; no ripple was made about the Bishop's disappearance, he wasn't important nor well connected enough for Rome to care once he had insured the return of Alecto; after all, despite denouncing him and aiding his trial and subsequent execution, he had still been a follower of Pelagius.

His assistant was assigned to another bishop who was sent back there but by the time they had arrived, the village was deserted and there were no more people to 'convert'; so they were ordered to France.

The Knights and Woads stayed for another 2 days, helping the villagers begin to recover – but every night she and Tristan slept outside; she had no more nightmares.

No one ever found the body of the man on the hill; his throat cut, many other blows and injuries upon him. His remains eventually returned to the dust whence they came; his soul….well, San was right in her assumption of the fate of that part of him.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Destiny, mollified that one wrong had been righted, allowed her wheels to move on…..Fate's game began again; the second round was now upon them.

**_I know this is probably a horrible way to deal with Germanius, but to be honest I thought he was a complete unpleasant and slimy individual in the film and was very keen for Tristan or Bors to kill him (as the only two characters who might have); when they didn't and Arthur just let him go…..well, I wasn't a happy bunny. So you could say this is my revenge for getting Dag killed in the film, and for just being a creep. Additionally, I felt his character _was_ probably capable of this based on his actions in the movie._**


	14. Bloody Revenge

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)__ The tie that binds' and 'to cut the pain' that Lancelot carries out are actually true customs carried out in some Celtic and other similar traditions._**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Fourteen – Bloody Revenge_**

As the knights rode to the fort, a wind began to pick up; it blew round Sandrina, the Woads and knights looked on in amazement.

Suddenly, San's face paled "we must get back to the fort - NOW!" And she urged Hunter into a gallop "there is much trouble; come knights, our king has need of us!"

Tristan knew that look, she had had the same look the night Vanora was attacked; he spurred his horse into a gallop to ride along side her "Is it bad?"

"Aye, very; we must get there soon. It is the Celts…."

"Celts!" Said Lancelot, catching them up "San, the last time…"

"I am better prepared this time Lancelot - I will do naught to let you down….."

"You did not do so before; we merely worry about you my sister..."

She smiled "Don't - I have the wind at my back this time!" and she let Hunter have his head, the horse almost flying in front of them.

Odell riding behind knew he was looking at someone as powerful as Merlin, but one who did not realise it…...

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

As they crested the hill, they saw the battle raging below. They all shared a look; the Woads had come to like these knights, and the woman. They instinctively knew she was more one of them than any other here.

The knights all looked at each other; Bors grinned "I fancied a fight!"

Tristan looked at her "be careful; I don't want another 5 days without sleep."

"There's that sense of humour again."

He smirked "remember you are my soul; I would not survive you long, San…"

"Nor I you…."

She loaded her bow, the Woads looking on in surprise that she could fire 6 arrows so quickly, and screaming with the men who were now her family she rode full tilt down the hillside; her arrows flying……."RRRROOOOOUUUUUUSSSSSSS!"

The battle was not going well for Arthur, with his knights and their skills missing he was faring sorely bad. The Woads were doing their best, but like his Briton men, they had not the skill and they were being slaughtered.

Then he heard it; the knights battle cry and looked up to see them, with San and the Woads, riding headlong down the hillside…… "Thank you God!" he muttered.

Her quiver empty; San drew her sword, and hacked at heads and limbs as she rode through the milling throng towards the fort. The wind blowing her forward, this time she listened. She saw Guinevere on the battlements, her face torn with emotion.

"GUINEVERE – THIS DAY WE NEED A WARRIOR, NOT A QUEEN!" She cried and waved her sword above her head "RRROOOUUUUSSSS!"

Guinevere smile "I AM COMING MY FRIEND! I COME TO DEFEND MY COUNTRY….AND TO FIGHT WITH MY HUSBAND!" The Woads and Britons who could hear her cheered.

The wind still with her, she fought her way to Arthur; who glared "You should not have brought her forth…."

"She needs to fight with you Arthur. Do not turn her into something she is not; you will rue it, trust me." San warned.

She leapt off her horse and hacked a Celt before her to the ground. Odell was being cornered by three Celts; she raced to him and hacked two down – Lancelot took care of the third. Odell nodded his thanks; as he went to turn, a breeze caught her hair.

"ODELL - _MOVE_!" The man instinctively fell to the side as she thrust her sword into the throat of a Celt that was coming behind him.

The wind blew to her left; something was not right - the Celts, they were not all the fighting the same.

"_MERCENARIES_! SOME ARE MERCENARIES!" She cried to Lancelot.

"SCUM!" he yelled as he took the head of another of the enemy to his left.

They changed tack, mercenaries fought with a ferocity that came with long years of paid battle and brutality. The Celts fought with passion, thinking right was on their side.

Brutality needed to be fought with brutality. She drew her dagger; spinning and turning, she cut and hacked with both sword and dagger, the wind guiding her - yet still she kept Tristan in sight as much as possible. Occasionally their eyes locked and she felt her heart contract.

Every time she looked at him, the wind changed to a breeze and she realised he would be safe this battle. Wounds maybe, still those she could tend, but he would not perish _this_ day.

She looked round the crowd as the tide began to turn in their favour; waning spirits had been buoyed by their arrival - the Queen now joining her husband on the battlefield wearing her woadish clothes caused them to fight all the harder. Guinevere had not abandoned her people after all…

The two women found themselves fighting side by side "You fight well," panted Guinevere.

"As do you; but mark, there are many mercenaries - they are animals and we must be careful." They began to move apart.

After what felt like hours, when her arms ached and she had so much blood on her she felt sticky and sick with the smell, the enemy began to fall back.

The breeze swirled to her right; she turned and saw a group advancing on Lancelot and Dagonet - she tore over, this time the wind almost blowing her along; Guinevere running behind.

She swung her sword, putting her entire weight behind it; one of their enemy's heads rolled along the ground as she took it off with one swing.

She saw one of the mercenaries take a swing at Alima, the Woad woman who had accompanied them to the Bishop's, who had also gone to aid them. She tried to dodge the blow on hearing San scream a warning and _almost_ did; but the sword bit deeply into her arm. Blood spurting, she fell….

"ALIMA!" San ran to her, hacking and killing as she went. The hawk looking down on the scene could see the path that San cut through the retreating enemy.

She had a sword to the man's throat forcing him to kneel, then a flicker of recognition ran through her "YOU!"

He staggered back as if confronted by a ghost. Lancelot dove forward to make the kill; but San's own sword blocked it……..

"NAY! Meet my _owner_ - Jarlath." She smiled thinly.

The knights stood in stunned disbelief; on the battlements Merlin smiled, seeing the destruction that Sandrina had cut through the Celts and their mercenaries, he knew this time she had listened to the elements. He also saw the man with her sword to his throat, also blocking the dark knight's attempt to kill him, and Galahad's to the kneeling one's back; now they would see what she was truly capable of.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Down on the battlefield; Lancelot, panting heavily, watched Sandrina "Is this the mercenary that Marius sold you to? What will you have me do, San?"

"Leave him to me; go now - you will not wish to witness this…" However, none moved; all transfixed by what was happening; but by then Sandrina was oblivious to their presence - she only saw another who had tormented, abused and persecuted her; he the worst of all.

"Should I kill you quickly; or make you suffer as you did me?" she asked the man before her, her sword digging slightly deeper into his throat.

"Should I allow my friends to beat and abuse you, as yours beat and abused me? Should I allow the women here to use you to relieve their sexual frustrations as you did your comrades on me? Should I force you to watch as I butcher people you know?

More over, should I lock you away in a pit and only allow you out for my own amusement; to beat you, cut you and abuse you?

Perhaps I should hold you down while you are raped by the owner of this fort and laugh as you beg for mercy, as I was by you and the owner of the house?" As she had asked each question, she cut into him and the blood now poured freely from him.

Jarlath was frightened; he was a coward, only brave when he knew he had the upper hand and he was fully aware that this time he _didn't_…

"I….I was under orders by Marius…." He stammered.

"You were _not_; his wife told me that you hated me full as much as he because I refused you when I was still able, as I refused him. But you more than repaid me for that….." her eyes narrowed.

"Both of you, you _raped _me; _you_ held me down while _he_ raped me - laughing! After I escaped I had people who would try to beat me as you did, and I learnt to fight back - to kill them as I will kill you for what you did, not only to me but other innocents! Do you know how much I want revenge?" she hacked at him again, nearly severing his right arm, the rage rising in her like boiling water.

Merlin watched; the moment had arrived…..they would see…..

Jarlath's screamed in pain, but carried on "I screamed for help, for some mercy Jarlath - and you _laughed_ at me; you told me I deserved everything I got, because I would not bend to the will of Rome. What will was that; the will of men who wished only to abuse me at their leisure?" She was slicing into him now, heavier blows than before…

"I watched you butcher Woads; starve them, rape them and torture them just because they were pagans.

I say that you deserve this for _your_ butchery; you will join Marius and his ilk in hell, and I wish you good journey!" She spat on him. Looking down at him, pouring blood, chunks of flesh missing from her savage blows – she showed some pity for the father of her child, with one swift movement she severed his head from his shoulders.

"I am _not_ you; _I_ will not torture to _death_…."

She turned and walked away from the bloodied and dismembered corpse, her face emotionless; the knights stood in stunned silence. They had never seen this side of San…..

Arthur turned, the others following his line of view, and took in the path she had cut through the enemy; they stared in disbelief at the savagery of her attack.

Tristan walked with her, she would not look at him; he felt the rage in her subsiding "We have all been there Sandrina; all felt the same bloodlust…" he nodded "I still do every time I fight."

"Really? I doubt you know what I was feeling; the rage I had in me. I wanted _revenge_, I wanted _retribution_; and not just for me, but for the others he helped slaughter." She closed her eyes against the memory "You will never know….."

He stopped her and turned her to face him "Nay, I may not – but I know you showed him pity at the end, I doubt we would've. I love you; you are for me."

"How can you want me now? I have been _defiled_! I should have told you; but I couldn't. I couldn't tell you what I _was_….." tears ran down her cheeks, causing clear streaks in all the dust and blood on her face.

He was moved, she _never_ cried "Sandrina" He shook her, though his voice never rose "I do not care what others did to you; all I care about is now - you are mine and I love you. You are my heart and soul."

She looked into his eyes, and believed him.

She had been holding herself rigidly, trying to shut down her emotions for fear of rejection. Now she allowed herself to slump against him, he held her close – murmuring into her ear his love.

Minutes later she felt a hand upon her shoulder; she turned, it was Bors "If you hadn't killed him, I would've; what he did to you….let others do to you….he deserved worse….." he growled.

She smiled, still leaning into Tristan "Bors, my friend – there is no excuse for the butchery I have just carried out. But thank you for being such a loyal friend.

How is Amila? Did she live?" Remembering the one she had rushed to save, the catalyst to this.

"She lives, but will need help – her arm is badly injured and will need much work. I think Dagonet and Merlin will have need of your assistance in trying to mend the damage." Arthur spoke.

She could not look at him; he took her chin and lifted her head "I cannot say I agree with what you did San – but I do understand…..

As for Guinevere, you are right - I try too hard to make her a queen, I do not allow her to be herself; the self that drew me to love her. I will try harder…." Sandrina smiled and looked at Guinevere, who was staring at Lancelot.

The knight was doing his best to ignore the longing look she was levelling at him; and Sandrina's heart went out to him.

She wearily extricated herself from Tristan, looking at him with such love and devotion that it took his breath, and went to Lancelot's side. "Brother?" she touched his arm "You have such strength to resist" she nodded imperceptibly toward Guinevere "do you hate me for my weakness?"

In reply the knight hugged her fiercely to him "As to weakness, you have none; it is only your strength that keeps me from giving way to mine. I cannot believe you survived such _butchery_…" he shook his head in disbelief.

"But I _would_ never, could _never _hate my sister. Those….things that you suffered at his hands - if you had not dealt with him, I would have; I think Tristan too would have welcomed the opportunity to deal with scum such as he, that would so injure one we love."

"And I" said Dagonet coming up "You are one of us San. We would not forsake you for a moment of madness; could we honestly say, if we had suffered the same, we would not want our moment of retribution also?

You have no need to worry about what you suffered, there is no judgement against you here; we love you as our sister…or more." he nodded at Tristan.

Gawain and Galahad nodded in agreement "Aye, you only did what any of us would have done. As to the other - we care naught for that, except you suffered so; we don't love you any less."

"But this…" she gestured to the swathe of dead bodies in her wake.

Lancelot shook his head "No more than any of us would do with similar skills; you are a _warrior_ San, and you should be a knight. What say you Arthur! Make her one of us now!"

Arthur nodded "she has earned the title this day. But I doubt we can call her Sir Sandrina; it will have to be _Lady_ Sandrina…" He smiled.

"You are a lady after all, dear sister; much against your will I am sure!"

"Agreed; and it will be in name only brother, and best not to forget it…." She smiled "You will never change me….."

"Nor would we want to….."

Up on the battlement Merlin knew that she had passed the final test of the knights – if they could cope with bloodlust such as this, the defilement she had suffered, and still not reject her then she was now truly one of them….

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

She met him in the room that used to be Tristan's until he moved into her room. Alima was groaning and her arm was badly hurt; flesh hung down where Jarlath had cleaved it to the bone.

Merlin looked calmly at her "You had retribution?"

"Aye, a clean kill would have been better for my own peace – but I wanted him to at least suffer some of what I and others endured at his hands."

"They still accepted you despite that and your…..treatment at the hands of the Romans."

"Aye, and I love them all the more for it; especially him." she gestured to Tristan, who stood watching from the door "I thought I loved him as much as I could ever love another; but I was mistaken…I love him even more now."

Merlin smiled "That is as it should be….soon there will be more reason…"

"What?" before she could ask more, Dagonet drew her aside "it is bad San….very bad. She may not last."

"I will not let her perish…." She went over to the woadish woman "Alima, can you hear me?"

"Aye….it hurts San, it pains me badly."

"You have to fight Alima…you have to fight…You are _Woad_, you are _Briton_ – you will _not_ surrender."

She took some salt and made a circle by the bed – she took the woman's dagger and stabbed it into the middle "to cut your pain, to cut your pain in two."

The moaning subsided slightly – San shared a knowing look with Tristan, who was still in the doorway, whilst she worked with Merlin and Dagonet.

Merlin was proud of her, on many levels – she was embracing her heritage, she was endeavouring to ensure that fate's game ended the way destiny had decreed, and she was true to one who loved her as dearly as she loved him.

Lancelot entered the room "how fares she? She fought bravely today…"

"She is bad Lancelot; she will need someone to sit with her to ensure her fever is watched, and she does not pull her stitches, as I did." Seeing a reason to escape his own torment he readily offered to be the one.

Sandrina smiled "I assume your reasons are not all charitable?"

Lancelot smiled sadly "Am I that obvious?"

She hugged him "only to me brother, only to me…" she went to the door, and looked round with a heartfelt smile "You fight well on all fronts Lancelot; but your honour is where I aspire to be like you most of all…and why I am proud to call you brother…" and left him open mouthed.

0-0-0-0-0-0

She went to see the children, to reassure them they were back, and in once piece. She did not tell them of what took place on the battlefield; she could not tell her daughter she had killed her father - no matter how much she knew he deserved it, no matter how much she knew Bethan viewed Tristan as her father in every way that counted.

So they went through their ritual, and for a brief moment Sandrina could escape the smell of death that still hung from her.

Once back their room, she and Tristan bathed together to rid themselves of the blood and dirt they were caked in.

Then they tended each others wounds. "More scars" she sighed, looking at the deep cuts on her arms and legs in the candlelight "I doubt I will have an inch of skin left that has not been scored in some way soon."

Tristan's chocolate brown eyes rested on her "and yet I have never seen you look more beautiful."

He trailed a fingers over her collarbone and down her side, tracing the vivid scar of the blow she took to protect him – he leant down and kissed it lightly, causing her to gasp "Do you know what you do to me?" she whispered, twining her hands in his hair and pulling his mouth up to kiss her…

"Only a fraction of what you do to me…" they lay back on the bed wrapped in each other's arms, and let the night roll over them as they loved each other….

0-0-0-0-0

He sat through the night and watched the woman before him fight for her life.

Somewhere deep inside his soul, something stirred in Lancelot; he took a piece of cloth from her bandages and, remembering what Tristan had told him he had done for San, he carried out 'the tie that binds'……never realising what he was _really_ doing….

0-0-0-0-0

The players were once again victorious in the second round of Fate's game; and Destiny, pleased that another wrong had been put right, allowed her wheels to move on once more….

**_I know this is probably a particularly barbaric way of dealing with Jarlath; however the original draft was a LOT more bloodthirsty, but I toned it down..._**

**_I wanted to show that Sandrina isn't all sweetness and light, and it's the darkness in her that draws Tristan as well as the light. He is well known in the movie for his bloodlust on the battlefield; I just wanted to show that San is pretty much the same._**


	15. New Day

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)__ The tie that binds' and 'to cut the pain' that Lancelot carries out are actually true customs carried out in some Celtic and other similar traditions. Odell, Amila, Ivo, Ela, Jarlath and Thurston are all 13th C. names – but again thought they would work well here._**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Fifteen – New Day_**

She spent the night curled in Tristan's arms – feeling safest there. She still felt that she had let herself down, by allowing her need for revenge to take control; but was thankful the knights did not feel the same.

They'd dismissed it as no more than a warrior's right. As to her treatment that brought her to such rage, they accepted and ignored it. It did not change the way they felt about her, in fact it explained much about the woman they loved; showed her strength and quiet determination to survive, when many would have been crushed under such abuse.

She looked across at Tristan's sleeping face. His features were relaxed, and he looked a lot younger than his actual years. She was so thankful that he had accepted her still, loved her as much despite….._everything_; had he not proved that this night?

She smiled at the memory of their lovemaking, he was always so gentle; but tonight he was so compassionate as if he was trying to erase all she had suffered. She reached up to stroke his cheek, his eyes opened.

"Are you _always_ such a light sleeper?"

"Aye, being alert is the best way to stay alive…"

"I'm hardly about to kill you..."

"Not with a dagger mayhap…."

"How then?"

He kissed her deeply, his hands straying over her body –instinctively knowing how to arouse her – "_exhaustion_..." he smiled slowly, sleep still in his eyes. She went to tug one of his plaits, but he pinned her arm to her side "love me…."

"You know I do Tristan…" she nuzzled his cheek "more than my own life, more than my heart and soul. I belong to you…." She wound her fingers in his hair and stared deeply into his brown eyes, this one person she was not afraid to make eye contact with.

He knew why now - in the darkness she had whispered her secret fears; how she had refused to look at her abusers, a way of shutting off what was happening to her. The whispered confessions had only served to bring them closer, if that were possible.

She leant her forehead against his, as Bethan often did, and he remembered what she had told him about that – souls kissing….he caressed her face. She rubbed her thumbs over the tattoos on his cheeks. They moved in perfect symmetry, one complimenting the other….

"There's naught I can say to express what I feel in here" she touched her chest over her heart. "But tis so much more than you could ever imagine…" she got no further as he smothered her mouth with a deep kiss.

The night was a long one…..but one filled with love.

0-0-0-0-0-0

As the dawn of a new day broke, Lancelot shifted uncomfortably in the chair; he leant over and touched Alima's face – her fever had not worsened, which was a good sign.

He was concerned for the woman, and he hardly knew her. He was gaining some comprehension of the torment Tristan had gone through to save Sandrina, a woman he loved so deeply.

Guinevere entered the room; Lancelot sighed _'would she not give him any peace?'_

"How does she fare?"

"She fares well, _my lady_, her fever has not worsened – we may save her yet." His voice held sarcasm; his only defence against her was to fight.

"Why do you speak so harshly Lancelot – are we not friends?"

"NAY!" anger flashed in his eyes, trying to regain control of his temper he lowered his voice "Nay, we are _not_ and well you know the reason…why do you torment me! You know, as well as I, what Sandrina fears!

She holds me high for my honour; because I resist you - I will not let her down.

I will not subject my sister to a task she fears so much, because _you _cannot control yourself _my Queen_! She has a great fear of the consequences should we betray Arthur!"

Guinevere flinched at his words "I have control of my feelings Lancelot – that is why I wish to be friends." She said coldly.

"There will be no friendship for us for a long time to come - you know that as well as I; now go…go to your husband_ – _my best friend, my _brother_ -and leave me here to tend this woman!

Leave me! Leave me in…._peace!_" The last word came out almost as a plea, and Guinevere left, tears welling in her eyes – knowing he was right. But could they continue to fight their feelings?

0-0-0-0-0-0

San woke quietly and tried to look at Tristan, she loved watching him sleep but rarely got the opportunity – he either woke as soon as she moved or was gone to scout for Arthur.

Today was the latter, she moved over to where he slept in the small bed – she breathed deeply into the wadded pillow, catching his scent as if he were still there with her…."be safe". She hugged the pillow and was about to drift off to sleep again, when she was aware of someone by the door.

She opened her eyes to see Dagonet there "San, we need to check on Alima".

She rose quickly – feeling hot, but knowing she had no time to bathe "Dag, wait one moment- I need to wet my hair." She indicated the tangled blond mess; smiling as to how it got so knotty.

As she came out of the room tying it back, Dagonet looked confused "Did you not bathe last night?"

"Aye."

"Why would you need to wet your hair this morning then?"

"I got hot and sticky - it was a mess and I need to be able tie it back so I can deal with Alima".

"Why would you get hot and sticky if…? OH! _Ohhh_!" He blushed.

She laughed out loud, and kissed his cheek "Dagonet, you are beyond price to me!"

As they walked to Alima's room, they bumped into Gawain and Galahad. "Why have you wet your hair? " Asked Galahad.

"Did you not bathe last night?" from Gawain.

"She got hot and sticky…" offered Dagonet, raising his eyebrows…….

…..realisation dawned amid two cheeky grins "_Ohhhhh_…"

San rolled her eyes "Next time I'm rising _before _anyone else!"

They passed Guinevere leaving Lancelot's room, who shot San a guilty look that made her heart swim uncomfortably. She knew Lancelot would fight his feelings, but Guinevere was being cruel to torment him so.

Anger rose unbidden "Guinevere, a word please!" she waved Dagonet and the others on "I'll not tarry long; go to Alima I will follow."

As soon as the men were out of earshot, Guinevere turned haughtily to Sandrina "You wish to speak to me?"

"Why do you insist on plaguing him so!"

The other woman faltered "I do not; I only wish him as a friend….I…"

"You _cannot_ be friends Guinevere! Please, I ask you again; let sanity guide your reason - I _will_ fulfil my task if I have to, and you are the one that will carry the consequences!"

The other woman blanched "I…I understand; but it is…so difficult…"

Sandrina sighed "I know, truly I do…I would hate to be without Tristan. But you _must _do this, not just for yourself and Lancelot – but for the good of all Briton."

Tears filled Guinevere's eyes "You give good counsel San. I only wish I had your strength…."

San's eyebrows flew heavenward "_Strength_! After I weakened to my own bloodlust yesterday? Allowed the need for revenge to better me!" she laughed mirthlessly "Nay, it is because of my _weakness_ Guinevere that I counsel you, do not fall foul of yours as I did mine."

Guinevere touched her arm "You are a good friend to me, and sister to Lancelot. I believe you stronger than you do yourself - after all you are a knight now!" she decided to try and lighten the mood "_Lady_ Sandrina! Arthur would not have taken that decision lightly…"

"Oh, do not remind me!" San followed her lead "Me, a _Lady_! I think not!" she laughed. "But at least I can ride into battle now - without worry of being told off!" Her eyes wandered over the gallery and out across the wall.

"You miss him…."

"Aye, I miss him – it is as if half my heart is not with me."

Bethan came running with Lucan…"My Queen" she dipped her head.

Guinevere smiled "To you Bethan, I always Guinevere."

"Does she know?" Guinevere asked San.

"Lucan take Bethan to your father for a moment, I wish to speak with Guinevere". San sighed.

"I am sorry, that was thoughtless…"

"Nay, nay – it is alright. No, I haven't said. She thinks him already gone; I love her dearly and have never lied to her, except one time only. I could not tell her the truth that she was a child of rape, so I told her her father was someone imprisoned with me; that he died bravely…." San sighed. "She accepted it, and now she has Tristan. She loves him as much any child could love a father, and I think he loves her like his own…"

"You did right by her San, never doubt it – the truth would have been a heavy burden for even a child such as Bethan…"

"Did I tell you Ivo and Ela have been taken?" the other woman suddenly changed the subject; and Guinevere realised none would ever judge San as harshly on those actions as she did herself "Thurstan from the Smithy has decided to adopt them; I think he hopes to encourage Lynette to wed him" she chuckled at Guinevere's questioning look "by showing how good a father he can be! He is so good with them, though; they are very happy."

"So how many have you left now?"

"Just Bethan…and Lucan; sometimes I wonder if Dag or Merlin accidentally stitched them together, for you never look for one without finding the other!"

"A match?"

"Tristan thinks so! It would be a good one, they have good hearts. I would not be unhappy if she chose the boy."

Dag's head appeared round the door "San?"

"I am coming…"

Guinevere touched her arm "My friend?"

"Always…"

"Remain watchful; we will still have need of you to keep us alert to the folly for a while yet."

"But you _try_ - and trying usually brings success. Until then, I will remain by both your sides…"

0-0-0-0-0

San entered the room, her heart went out to the man sat by the bed – anguished eyes turned to her. She went to his side and hugged him tight.

He held her close, his head buried in her stomach. "It is hard San, so hard to do…"

"But you succeed brother, and I am always with you; I will never forsake my blood."

The other knights stood quietly confused. Not sure why Lancelot was so distressed – maybe it was the woman in the bed before him; but that was unlikely as he hardly knew her. Whatever it was they weren't too concerned as they knew San would help him, and put things right as she always did.

Dagonet had his suspicions, but did not voice them; knowing San would not tell him unless she needed his help – and content to let her deal with it until then.

She drew back, aware of the confusion of the other nights "One night without sleep brother, and you have me nursing you like a babe!" she laughed.

Lancelot released her and looked at the other knights, falling back into their easy banter "Aye, Sister – still I did not have the reasons you did to stay up half the night; is that not why your hair is wet, the need to wash the sweat out! It was a warm night, and your room was warmer still I'll wager!"

She blushed hard, and punched his arm "_Lancelot! _I am shocked at your forwardness!" her voice was light with merriment "But you are quite right!" and set them off into peals of laughter.

"How fares she?"

"Her fever is not worsening; yours was still rising at this point".

"Well then, that is a good sign. We may yet prevail; I am pleased – she is a good woman, and I could see us becoming firm friends."

She looked at the fabric around their wrists joining them together, and smiled. "I see you carried out 'the tie that binds'? You do know what you have done?"

"Tried to save her only." He dismissed gallantly.

"_Nay_, you have tied her soul to yours…."

"So? Once she is well……"

San shook her head, smirking "Oh, it is not _that_ simple, dear brother. You two will find yourselves tied to each other now…..I hope you can get along, you will find yourself strangely attached in future……"

Lancelot's eyes widened "But I didn't…..I mean that wasn't….. Tristan did it for you!"

She laughed "Aye I know Tristan took that step with me, but he is my heart – we love each other more than anyone can know or understand…."

"They are so happy together; he loves Mama so much - and he is nice and he makes me laugh..." Bethan smiled.

"Does he? Tristan, does this? Is this the same scout we know?" Galahad queried, never knowing his friend to be 'nice' and to make a child laugh deliberately.

"Of course it's the same one; how many Tristan's are there!" Bethan was indignant.

"I am sorry my lady, I did not mean to offend." Galahad bowed low, in mock sorrow.

He was greeted with a smile and a snort of derision and held her head high "I am no _lady_ Galahad! I am as my mother….a Woad and a Sarmatian - and one day I will be a knight like my father."

Sandrina was tending to Alima and went still, as did everyone in the room.

"Your _father_?" a voice from the door spoke. All eyes turned to meet emotionless chocolate brown ones.

Bethan walked to him resolutely "Aye, for that is what you are to me Tristan - I will call you father from this day. I know you own my mother's heart, and I speak true when I say you own mine too. You are more to me than aught else, except she and Lucan."

For a moment Tristan went very still, brown eyes held blue ones "so be it….daughter." and he left. All eyes swivelled to San.

She followed him "Tristan? Did she offend?"

Calm eyes swung to hers "Nay, she honoured me."

Bethan came out then "Did I err?"

Tristan never spoke, but knelt down and held out his arms – Bethan flew into them. The embrace showed she had been right.

San walked over as he stood, his arms went round them both "I missed you…."

0-0-0-0-0

Fate's game slowly playing out; the wheels of Destiny turn on….


	16. Relationships

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)__ Odell and Amila are all 13th C. names – but again thought they would work well here._**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Sixteen – Relationships_**

Lancelot, though now clearly rattled at the thought of being tied in some way to a woman he barely knew, decided he could not just abandon her. He had given San his word that he would care for the woman until she…..woke up; he would not think of her dying.

He remembered her on the battlefield, how she had fought well – and had tried to come to his aid. The way she had joined them in dealing with Germanius; nay, he would not think of the alternative.

He felt her forehead, her fever was definitely waning, and her wound was healing. He was sure she would survive; of course, the hard part then would be waiting to see how much use she retained of that arm.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Tristan and Gawain were tending their horses when Bethan came in "Father, will you teach me to use a sword?" he looked down at the small girl, the fact she now called him father still made him smile. He knew she wasn't his by blood, but in every other way she was.

"Why?"

"So I can protect you and Mama if the bad men come again…"

Gawain looked across with interest at how Tristan would handle this….

"I see; well, we do not have swords small enough for you…."

"A sword is not so much bigger than a dagger; I can use a dagger, Mama taught me…"

"Why?"

"Mama says "being able to protect yourself, at any age, is always preferable to relying on others" she intoned, and he could believe that San would have said that; particularly after what they had found out about her.

Gawain looked at the small girl, and thought of how her mother would be desperate to ensure that she did not end as she had - his heart constricted. He would never allow that to happen, no more than the others would.

Tristan crouched down "Well, you have me and the other knights now, Bethan – we will always protect you, and your Mama will never let aught happen to you."

He could see from her face that she was not convinced "But if I can handle a sword you would not have to leave me behind - I could ride into battle with you; I do not like being left behind.

I want to be a warrior Father; I want to be like you. I am a good fighter - I am the only one that Bors' children cannot best in a fight….I would make you proud…"

Tristan shut his eyes – he was already full of pride that she felt so much for him, that she wanted to _be_ like him. None had ever cared enough for him to feel like that before – but….he could not let her, he could not let her become a killer as he and her mother had; he wanted so much more for her than that….

But then again…..being able to protect herself would not be a bad thing, surely?

"I am already proud of you Bethan…."

Gawain smiled, he knew Bors adored the little girl as much as all of them, but was not happy that she always bested all his children – from the youngest able to fight, to the oldest.

"I do not think you should worry about being a warrior yet; but I will teach you to use a bow and how better to wield a dagger; and I could teach you to scout. You already have a good eye and an affinity with nature; I think you would make a strong scout."

He saw the disappointment in her face at first; but then watched it brighten as she realised he _was_ willing to aid her, up to a point.

She flung her arms round his neck and hugged him tightly. Gawain watched, as the usually gruff and isolated scout, hugged her fiercely back. "Father, Father I love you so dearly…." She whispered, but not so quietly the other knight could not hear her.

Gawain left them, a lump in his throat – and thanking the day San and Bethan entered their lives.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Later that day, Lancelot came running onto the gallery "She is awake! _Hello_! _Anyone_! The bloody harpy is awake!" This one statement proved to all that their first meeting had not gone well…..

It had started agreeably enough; Alima had gradually awakened to find herself still alive, and a man she vaguely recognised sitting in a chair looking out the window. But as she tried to move, she found her right arm useless. Panic set in and the meeting went downhill from there…..

"What sorcery is this! Why can I not move this arm! Where are my tribe! Why have you _tied_ me to you!"

"Ah, so you are awake finally. We fought hard to save you – I think a word of thanks might be a better place to start…." She merely glared so he sighed and continued.

"But as to your questions: There is no sorcery, your arm was badly injured, your tribe are around the fort, and it is an ancient custom of my people, I _think_, to save your life by tying your soul to mine..."

He thought later, that in retrospect, the last line was probably not the most well thought out….

"WHAT! You have stolen my _SOUL?_!" she struggled to sit up with her useless arm.

"NAY! I have not bloody _stolen_ it! I merely _tied_ it to _mine_…nay, wait…what I mean is….look…wait there and I will fetch San….remember San?"

With that he ran to the gallery, after he had nearly toppled before he realised that he had not cut the tie first - cursing everything in his power that he had allowed himself to be so pathetic to worry about a harpy such as this woadish witch!

San heard him shouting and smiled; so their first meeting had not gone well! She took the stairs two at a time and reached him quickly.

"San! Thank the stars! She is a _harpy_, a _witch_, a _demon_!"

"Calm down Lancelot; after all, she must be nice then…"

"NICE! How can you assume she is _nice_ from _that_?"

"You said the same of me - remember?"

"I do not believe it – you are making a _jest_; a _jest_ at a time like this? She. Is. A. _Harpy_! Go see for yourself…."

San entered the room, to be confronted by Amila trying to rise.

"I know how you must be feeling" she soothed, her voice taking on the hypnotic tone she usually reserved for the children "I was where you are, not so long ago; in fact I nearly died. Without my Tristan to guide me I would not have come back. But you cannot leave this room, until we know how to help heal your arm."

Amila looked at her, she remembered her as the woman from the Roman's house – who had been tormented by such demons, and had fought on the battlefield with such ferocity. The one Odell respected and liked; as her brother she would listen to his word and his alone….

She tried to fold her arms unsuccessfully a few times, causing Lancelot to laugh until he was kicked by San, then gave up and said mutinously "I want my brother; I want Odell!"

"You sound like Ivo - and he is only 5." Bethan stood at the door, with Tristan.

"She is being a difficult patient?" He asked.

Before San could reply, Lancelot spun round "DIFFICULT? _Nay_, not _difficult_….difficult would be a _good_ thing."

He pointed accusingly at Amila "_SHE _is being an ungrateful, spoilt brat of a wench – is what she is being; for the love of me San, fetch her bloody brother and free me from the curse of being her carer!"

Tristan turned away before his friend could see his suppressed laughter – San did the same; however, no one had reckoned on Bethan, with Lucan in tow.

"You should be grateful that Lancelot is trying to help you; that we are all trying to help you. I am only seven summers, but I would not speak so to those who are trying to aid me. And my Mama and Father told me you were nice - they must have been very mistaken." She glared at Amila, though her face remained as passive as Tristan's always did.

"Yeah, very mistaken" chimed in Lucan, always keen to support his friend.

Lancelot smirked at Amila along with the children, and San had to remind herself that he was a grown man…..

Bethan's reprimand brought the Woad woman up short. She looked at the child, "Who is your father?"

"I am" Tristan stepped forward. Bethan slipped her small hand into his, looking up at him with complete adoration.

"My father is a brave knight, a fearsome warrior, and a formidable scout. I want to be just like him one day…." She said proudly.

Tristan's face gave nothing away – but he squeezed her hand. San's heart filled with pride and love for both of them.

Amila took a deep breath "You are lucky to have such a loyal daughter; and I think you are lucky to have such an impressive father. I am sorry if I appeared ungrateful – I was…." She could not admit to being scared "surprisedwhen I woke up. But I would like to see my brother….please".

Bethan beamed "See? Being nice is not so hard. I will fetch Odell for you". She ran off - with Lucan in tow, as usual.

"Maybe if _I _had spoken to you like that, you might have listened to _me_…."

"YOU stole my SOUL!"

"San will you tell this bloody witch, that I did _not_ steal her soul…"

"He is right Amila. He only did 'the tie that binds'; he merely bound your soul to his to save your life. If you had died you would have taken his soul with you…"

"She would!"

"Aye….she would." She returned her attention to Amila "he tried to save you - he sat with you for two days. That is all he can be accused of Amila; you should not be so hard on him".

Amila was shocked, but before she could respond her brother came in. "You wish to see me Amila? I hear you are not being very grateful for all that is being done for you."

"Tattle tail…._good_!" Lancelot congratulated Bethan and Lucan.

"I am _not_...it was Lucan." Replied an indignant Bethan; Tristan patted her shoulder "Come Bethan, let us go and begin your lessons..."

"I like Lancelot and she was mean to him…." Muttered Lucan, earning a ruffled head and big grin from the knight.

"Lessons?" From San.

"Father is to teach me to use a bow, wield a dagger better and train me to be a scout!"

"It was either that or teach her to use a sword, so she can ride into battle with us…" his face and voice passive, San still saw the merriment in his eyes.

"I see…well, you better get on then." She smiled at Bethan, and over her head locked eyes with Tristan "I love you…" she mouthed. He flashed a brief smile.

"Come daughter, you will not be so eager to learn by nightfall – I am a hard taskmaster!"

"and _I_ am a good student….so you will not frighten _me_!"

San heard Tristan's rare laughter as they went down the gallery outside.

Odell turned to his sister "this man spent much time tending you, even using his ancient traditions to save you, and you repay him like this? I am not pleased with you, Amila; we have many, many wounded, I will have to leave you here to _their_ care and I expect you to accept it."

He turned to San "_Are_ they bound?"

Lancelot and Amila both looked on expectantly "Aye…to a point. Not the same as Tristan and I because they are not in love. However, they will feel a connection for all time."

She looked at the two adversaries "In my opinion, you should learn to get along……"

"You are jesting!"

"I am not learning aught with him…."

"You will not have to – I only agreed to nurse you until you woke up; though I am wishing now you had not bothered."

"Good – and likewise so am I!"

"Actually" San smiled in a way Lancelot didn't like "we have many sick and injured to care for; we can spare no one, brother. Tristan says there is nothing to report from his scouting missions, so Arthur is more than happy for you to remain here…."

"WHAT!"

"That is fine…stuck with a _soul eater_…."

Odell smiled at San "My sister is very stubborn."

"As is my brother…."

"Then it seems eternity will be a lot longer for _them_."

They left to insults being hurled at them by _both_ parties…..

Outside he stopped her "How is her arm?"

San's smile faded "I am unsure, I will check and advise you. Have you seen Merlin or Dagonet?"

"Merlin has gone to visit his tribe and Dagonet is with Bors training his children to fight better; because, apparently, your daughter bested them in two fights yesterday."

"Ah, aye she is very good at that…Poor Bors..." She laughed. "I will find Dag and get him to help me; I doubt she will relish Lancelot touching her arm - though perhaps I should insist? It might break the ice…"

"Well, it could end up with something being broken." he laughed "I think you are enjoying this."

"It is about time my brother met his match."

"Likewise my sister; she is too headstrong. How are you? I heard what happened on the battlefield."

"I am well; I did an unthinkable thing. But I wanted him to suffer as he made me suffer, and others.

Also I was concerned they would reject me for……what happened to me. I need not have worried; Tristan is my rock, he never once questioned his love for me. The other knights too, supported me. I am so very lucky."

"Indeed, I wish I was so fortunate. But I believe one day I will meet my mate. I think Amila has met hers."

"_Lancelot_! You cannot mean him? But they _hate_ each other." she chuckled.

"I have learnt it is a thin line between love and hate Sandrina; my sister will learn the same lesson." He smiled. He liked this woman, it was a shame……a shame she belonged so wholly to another.

"Well, in that case I will certainly watch them closely – I could do with some amusement!" She laughed.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Down below Tristan was watching "Try all you want to win her from me Woad, you will never succeed." he muttered.

His lesson with Bethan was going well. He was surprised what a quick study she was; the same as he - the only difference was when she made a mistake, there was no beating for her as there was for him.

"Would you like to come on a scouting mission with me this afternoon?"

His answer was to be knocked off his feet - only this time in a hug so fierce he thought she would strangle him.

They rolled around in the dirt for some minutes - their laughter ringing round the compound.

Gawain and Galahad walked past…….

"Bested by a child Tristan - unthinkable; even if she is your own daughter!" laughed Galahad.

"What will Arthur say? His wondrous scout brought down by a 7 year old girl!" crowed Gawain.

Bethan stood as quickly as Tristan. Regarding them mutinously she ran at them with the wooden shield and dagger he had made for her; and before they knew what was happening she had attacked them! She could not best them, though she did knock Gawain over, but she surprised them with the ferocity of her attack.

"_Never_ ridicule my father again! He is a man beyond reproach, and as his friends you should not speak of him so!" She was boiling mad.

All three men looked on her incredulously; Gawain picking himself up, not knowing what to say. She certainly had her mother's temper.

"We merely jest Bethan that is all. Your father is well used to it and knows we mean him no harm or disrespect" Galahad spoke quietly; upset he had distressed the child –for all the knights adored her.

She was a brave, sensible little soul; with a resolute spirit they admired. None forgot the picture of her waiting with Lucan for them to return that first time; nor the boy's later halting admission that it was she that was determined most to wait. Nor did they forget the way she tried to be brave on seeing her mother.

"Aye…we jest only." Agreed Gawain.

She hesitated, adopting that same stillness that Tristan had. She looked to him for agreement. He nodded "They speak true, Bethan."

"Then I will apologise, but to hurt him is to hurt me. I will not let him be injured in any way. Will you take my hand as a sign all is forgiven, and forgotten?" she offered her hand to both knights. They shook on it, and ruffling her hair went on their way.

"I would _hate_ to meet her on the field of battle in a few years…" said Gawain.

"I would hate to meet her there _now_…."

Tristan stood, his face set and impassive, but too emotional to speak. No one had defended him like that in his life; no one.

"Are you angry?" She sparked him out of his reverie.

"Why should I be?"

"Because I lost my temper and tried to hurt your friends…"

"Nay, I am not angry; I am touched you love me so to want to."

"Of course I do; you gave me and Mama our lives back."

He put his hand on her shoulders and knelt down in front of her "And you both gave me my humanity; it is a fair trade."

She kissed his cheek "I love you Papa…"

"And I you." he flashed a brief smile at the endearment.

Sandrina walked up. "I hear you have been defending your father."

"They jested, I did not know."

"It was not a wrong thing, Bethan; I am proud you love him so."

"I always will; he is my father in every way that counts. I will go and wash now - it will soon be time for food and I am starving!" She ran off.

"She is amazing" said Tristan.

"She is; every day a little more than the one before."

"Come here…" She went to him and he led her into the stables; pushing her into the hay, he fell down beside her. Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her fiercely. "I love you."

"And I you…"

He held her gaze "_Do_ I have to kill him?"

"Who?"

"Odell, the Woad; he seems much smitten with you." His voice as passive as always, but his eyes held merriment and….something else.

"You are _jealous_! I do not believe you can be jealous of a friend!" she smiled, laughter in her voice.

"It shows what you do to me." He muttered into her hair, hands caressing her face and neck.

She gave into his kisses, "You are the sun in my day – the moon in my night. Without you I am nothing; _never_ doubt me Tristan." she groaned as his hands drove her mad.

"It is not _you_ I worry about." He kissed her deeply, his hands tugging at her shirt.

"Tristan!" she wriggled away, laughing – but he could see the passion and love in her eyes "It is the middle of the day – someone might come in to tend the horses!"

He stood and swept her into his arms "Then we will go somewhere we will not be disturbed!" and carried her to their room, kicking the door shut behind them.

"Where are they going?" Lucan asked Bethan.

"I do not know; but they get all kissy about it, whatever it is…." She pulled a face.

"Ewwww". Lucan was not impressed.

"I am going scouting with my father this afternoon!"

"You are lucky; I wish I could come!"

"Shall I ask?"

"Would he agree?"

"He might…."

"Let us ask then…"

"Not now" she looked at the shut door "when they close the door, they will be there for some time. They make a lot of noise, sometimes. Lancelot says they are moving the furniture about.

We have been here six _months_; Tristan has been with Mama for nearly 4 of those, _and_ there is not _that_ much furniture in there; you think they would be fed up with moving it about by now…."

"Are they not?"

"_Nay_, they do it most nights, _and_ sometimes in the day too; I hear them."

"Grown ups - they never make any sense."

Arthur, Guinevere and Dagonet were walking across the training area, on their way to the main building to discuss Amila, and overheard the whole exchange. Arthur would never know how he kept from laughing out loud.

Guinevere had a novel way; she held her nose and closed her eyes. Dagonet just stood, eyes watering, his mouth clamped shut. From the roars of laughter from the tack room, Gawain and Galahad had no intention of doing the same.

0-0-0-0-0

Fate's game played on; the wheels of Destiny move forward….this time affecting father and daughter.


	17. Father and Daughter

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)__ Odell and Amila are all 13th C. names – but again thought they would work well here._**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Seventeen – Father and Daughter_**

That afternoon, after an hour of 'moving furniture' and then eating, Bethan was thrilled that her father decided he would still take her scouting.

Her mother was not sure this was a good idea, but he reassured her that there had been nothing he had seen to indicate any more Celts were in the area. Her father felt that they had probably gone to regroup, and it would be a while yet before they had more trouble.

San watched them go, her heart in her mouth, she knew she was worrying about nothing – Tristan would let no harm befall her….nay, _their_….daughter. But still….

Lucan was not happy he had not been able to go. Tristan liked the boy, but it was not a general ride out – this was training. "I am sorry Bethan, but nay…..this is to train you to be a scout." She looked upset "Mayhap you can go for a ride with Lucan tomorrow."

_She_ was mollified, the boy was not….

Lucan watched Bethan mount her horse; she rode well for a child, everyone said so. He was so proud when people said nice things about her; she was a very special friend to him.

He watched her sitting on her horse, the horse the knights had got for her - she was beaming; and he was……jealous.

They had been inseparable since she came to the fort; only parting at night for sleep, and sometimes not even then – San would let her sleep at his home or he would sleep at Bethan's; curled up together in her room talking about what they would be when they got older - both wanted to be warriors like their fathers, and mother in Bethan's case. Though Bethan wanted to be a scout now too….

But now she was off and doing something he knew Tristan would never teach him. No matter how Tristan was with Bethan and her mother, he was still the same pragmatic knight with all else.

'_So were they_' he thought. Mother and daughter had a chosen few they let in to their world – all else were shut out. Nicely; and in a friendly way, but shut out none the less. He knew he and his father were lucky to be one of those few they allowed in, as he always felt a sense of peace around the two of them.

He sighed '_back by nightfall'_ that's what Tristan had said as he kissed San goodbye, said they were only going as far as the forest. He looked into the sky, the hawk wheeled high above the two riders – it was afternoon, a nice summer's day, and that would mean the sun would set late. Still, only a few hours at best; he wandered away kicking a stone dejectedly.

Dagonet and Sandrina exchanged a look "Their devotion to each other is touching, but I hope it does not burn itself out too quickly." Dag said.

"I think this is one of those 'for life' things Dag; we'll end up related, you'll see!" she laughed and walked towards the stables, the horses neighing a greeting. Hunter in particular pleased to see her.

"Well, my lads – I am with _you_ today, not the tavern; it is time we sorted you out!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Bethan rode on with Tristan - the companionable silence embracing them. That was another reason not to bring the boy – he talked too much these days; gone was the silent child, now he was a bag of chatter and nonsense. But he _was_ just a child; although so was Bethan, and yet she was not like that.

He looked across at her; she was looking all around her, taking everything in '_Just like a good scout should_' he thought with a private smile. "What do you see?"

"I see the blue sky above me, the sun on my back and the wind in face….just like my dream." she beamed, still looking about her.

"What else? Look more closely."

"I see your hawk above us; and horses hoof prints, and the tramp of many fighters on the ground. I see where weapons have been broken and….bodies I think, as there is much staining that looks like blood in the dirt."

"That is very good; what else?"

She looked up again at the horizon "I see the forest coming toward us; we must be on our guard as the forest can hide the enemy from us, as well as it can hide us from them."

"What do you hear?"

She listened intently for a few moments "Nothing, save the call of the hawk and plod of our horses."

"You learn very well Bethan".

"I have a good teacher" she smiled at him "Shall we live the dream?"

"Aye."

They let their horses have free rein, hurtling across the valley to the forest; the sun on their backs, blue sky above them and the wind in their face, the freedom that comes with being able to run as far and as fast as they wish with no one to hinder them.

0-0-0-0-0-0

An hour later, they rode quietly through the forest; nothing untoward had happened and no signs, other than that of Woads, had been seen. Tristan was quickly seeing that he had a scout in the making that would be better than even he.

Bethan missed nothing; eyes that took in everything, ears that heard all. A broken twig, a bird twitter, a print in the dirt; she saw and heard _everything_. He was so proud of her, and strangely touched. Her mannerisms, the way she spoke, even the way she had her hair, were all of him; in all those ways he could say, hand on heart, she _was_ his daughter, _his_ blood.

The only difference between them was her huge blue eyes and her blond hair…..like her mother's.

Sandrina; it disturbed him how much he loved that woman - he had never let anyone ever take over his heart as completely as she had. Never let anyone past his defences, to see the real him inside.

She worried about the way he would treat her after the battle, after she killed that…..thing; for you could not call him man or beast, neither would treat their own kind so. She thought he would reject her for what she had been subjected to; but how could he? How could he reject his own heart, his own soul?

Deep down he knew it was the very darkness in her that drew him, as much as the light. He had done many things in the name of Rome; things that he had not felt comfortable with in the beginning – but you _did_ get a taste for killing in the end, and he felt she understood that.

What she had done to that thing was brutal, but it _was_ deserved even Arthur admitted that.

But no matter about all else, all he knew was she was his and he hers, heart soul and body; the last made him smile.

"If we let our guard down we are fools." Bethan looked at him.

"What?"

"You were not paying attention; that is foolish."

"Who told you that?"

"You….well, and my mother…"

"I learnt it from your mother…." They shared a smile, it was San's favourite saying "fear is good, it keeps your guard up - only a fool drops their guard."

"What were you thinking?"

"How much I love your mother; and you."

"I am glad; so you will not leave us?"

"Never….I….."

They both heard the crack of a twig - both looked in the same direction.

"Get off the horse_ now_!" whispered Tristan urgently. They both jumped to the ground "Stay behind me and keep your eyes open."

Bethan whirled around him, her back to his back – just as he had taught her. She was frightened, _very_ frightened. But she would not let it show. She schooled her face into an impassive mask like her father.

She fingered the dagger at her belt - just in case. Her mother's words swirled round and round in her head _'fear is good, fear is good, fear is good…'_

Two Celts stepped out of the wood - before they knew what was happening Tristan was on them. He cut them down before they even realised; but then heard a sharp gasp….

He turned and saw a third had grabbed Bethan when he had moved forward to take out the other two. He cursed himself for not realising such a simple manoeuvre.

"Drop the sword, you Sarmatian _pig_!" drawled the man, holding a knife to Bethan's throat.

Tristan saw her eyes wide with fear, but her face as impassive as his; she moved her left hand, he saw a flash of metal – she dug her dagger deeply into the man's side….

"What the!" as he jerked, he released his grip momentarily; that was all Bethan needed - she squirmed loose, and ran….

Tristan threw his dagger and buried it in the Celt's chest - he stepped forward, relieved she was alright.

"Bethan, you did well…"

"PAPA!" she screamed as another Celt came out of the woods….

He lunged at Tristan, catching him off balance and cut deeply into his shoulder.

Bethan felt a rage she had never felt before - without thinking she snatched up the fallen Celt's knife, and lunged at the man fighting her father.

She stabbed him in the side, and as he looked down she pulled the dagger free and buried it in his chest, using both hands and all the force she had in her little body. She darted backwards and hid behind a tree as the man staggered to the ground and lay still.

She stood there for a few minutes, breathing hard, terrified beyond measure, waiting to see if any more came out of the wood - straining her ears for sounds of more approaching, but none did.

She crept out and went over to the Celts, kicking them with her boot – they were all dead. She retrieved their daggers and their own before tucking them into her belt; the dead men made her feel sick, but she swallowed hard and turned away.

She looked at her father; he had leant against a tree and slumped to the ground. She let out the low whistle he had taught her, and both horses came trotting.

She ran to him "Father? Father you are hurt….!" He was bleeding badly from the shoulder wound, and she could see wounds on his arms.

"So are you…." He gestured to her neck. She felt it and found blood on it; but it was a small cut.

"I will be well; you saved me.."

"What else would I do for my daughter; you must fetch help."

"I will not leave you."

"You must…."

"NAY! There might be others; I will not go and leave you to die - it will take too long to go there _and_ return!"

"Obey me - Do as I say!" his voice, though pained, was angry.

"You are in no state to _make me_!" Hers was equally as angry.

Before he passed out, Tristan thought absently how like her mother she was……stubborn; so very stubborn.

0-0-0-0-0-0

'_What now, what now!'_ He was unconscious, but she had to move him somehow. Panic was beginning to rise in her; but she pushed it down. This was not the time to lose her head. She needed to be like _him_; always so calm, collected and detached; only then would she succeed.

She looked at his horse; he was very tall, and her father was heavier than she….

She looked at her own horse; it was shorter - she _might _be able to…

She hurried back to him "Father? Father, you must awake – you have to help me."

He stirred "Go…leave me…"

"Nay! _Work with me_!" She helped haul him to his feet – together they staggered to her horse; he managed to get onto it, but only just.

She walked to his horse; they stared at each other "I need to ride you. Will you let me?" The horse stood passively.

She took that for a yes, and so started to clamber onto him. Suddenly all the hairs on her head seemed to stand on end….and the hawk came to rest on a tree branch.

It regarded the small girl and her injured friend, before she flew to her. Bethan automatically held up her arm for her to land on. She was heavier than she'd expected.

"I must get him home;I have to get him help!" the bird looked at Tristan as he started to sag in the saddle.

Bethan turned, and quickly pulled the reins on her horse to bring them side by side. She propped her father up…

'_This was impossible! Nay, nay it was not – Lancelot told her nothing was impossible. This was her father and she would not let him down._' Gingerly keeping the horses' level she tried to move off. He immediately started to slide again.

Tears of frustration and fear pricked her eyes, but she would not let them fall. _'Calmly, calmly….**think**!'_

An idea occurred to her; she moved her arm and the hawk wheeled into the sky, screeing. she got the horses level; then tugged at her father so that he fell to the side, this time she let him, and with a lot of effort managed to get him over the horse in front of her.

Balancing him with one hand she looped the reins of her horse over the pummel of his saddle. "I am sorry, this is a heavy burden I know; but please help us…" she murmured to his horse.

The horse moved off…….

Slowly, oh so slowly, they made headway. Her nerves hanging out of her skin, adrenalin pumping through every vein, her eyes and ears strained for every noise, every movement. Her mother's words still in her mind _'fear is good, fear is good…keep your guard up, keep your guard up'_.

0-0-0-0-0

Eventually they cleared the trees – she heaved a sigh of relief; now at least she would have a better view of any approaching trouble. It suddenly occurred to her that this is what her father did most days, when he wasn't fighting – she had always thought he went riding to see if the enemy were about, she never thought of him actually engaging them. She felt so proud of him….

Slowly they headed back to the fort – it was a slow process that nearly had Bethan screaming with frustration, but she knew enough about healing from her mother to know to jolt her father around would be disastrous.

The hawk wheeled high above them, keening – occasionally it would float near her, and she found it strangely comforting; as if it were trying to let her know she was not alone.

But her thoughts tormented her '_It was all my fault; he had let his guard down because of me. Been so keen to save me, and now look what happened; I will never forgive myself….if…if…_

_NAY! do not think of that…DO NOT….he will not….God would not be that cruel to us…we love him…please God, we love him so much…._'

Thoughts like this accompanied the solitary rider and her burden on their homeward journey….

0-0-0-0-0-0

Back at the fort, a wind whipped round Sandrina….. Gawain watched her face pale.

"What is it?"

"They are in trouble!"

"Who? Who is trouble?"

"Tristan and Bethan!" She ran to her horse…

"I will get the others…. _KNIGHTS!_"

They came running, except for Bors and Dagonet who were on watch "What is it?" Galahad asked.

"Sandrina feels that Tristan and Bethan are in danger - and you know her 'feelings'…."

Lancelot touched her arm "it will all be well sister; they _will_ be alright."

The anguished look she gave him, caught his breath "I cannot lose them brother; I cannot lose them to the darkness."

Lucan took off, his heart in his mouth…. '_Not Bethan, not his Bethan….!_'

"FATHER! FATHER! YOU MUST COME!"

0-0-0-0-0-0

Finally they reached the fort; it was dark now, but they had reached it. Bethan almost cried with relief; but would not give in, there was still much to do.

"HELP ME!" she called, panic now plain in her voice "OH PLEASE _GOD_, HELP ME! For he is all the world to me and he cannot die….!"

0-0-0-0-0-0

Dagonet and Bors watched the little procession approach the gates in the darkness; two horses and a rider with what looked like a large bundle laying over the horse, and exchanged confused looks.

Just then Lucan came screaming to the steps making Dagonet look away, at the same time Bors noticed the hawk…… and then heard Bethan's clear voice crying for help….

"What the….! DAMN! OPEN THE GATES! OPEN THE _BLOODY_ GATES!"

0-0-0-0-0

Fate's game takes a new turn, father and daughter's part still to finish this time; the wheels of Destiny move forward once more….


	18. Waiting

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

_**Chapter Eighteen –Waiting**_

The gates swung open and the rider entered; head dipped in exhaustion…

Bethan sat on Tristan's horse; hers tied to the saddle - Tristan bundled across in front of her blood dripping on the ground, the hawk flying overhead keening…..

The knights left the horses they were about to mount and rushed forward. They stood in disbelief; none of them could believe what this _child_ had seemingly managed to do.

Merlin stood on the gallery with Arthur and Guinevere. Although his heart went out to small girl below them; he was also immensely proud, she was a true Woad - strong, resilient and determined. She had succeeded where some adults would have failed.

Sandrina rushed forward "Oh my God; Bethan….Tristan! What _happened_!"

Her face impassive, but eyes full of hurt and fear "Celts came….they attacked us……papa killed three" she shook her head as if to clear it "I…I…killed one."

Everyone stood in stunned disbelief. "Are you hurt?" Queried Dagonet quietly, lifting her from the large horse.

"Only a small cut..." she indicated her neck "a Celt held a knife…." She shuddered "But….oh, Dagonet you must help papa! Please, he is bleeding badly…" She hugged the large knight round the neck, fear causing her to use her father's pet name.

"Did you see where he was hurt?"

"Aye, the last Celt cut his shoulder; and he has other smaller wounds on his arms. I do not think they are too bad, but I do not know for certain."

"You were a good girl to check, and to remember so much."

"He wanted me to leave him; but I couldn't…."

Lancelot carried Tristan to the room he shared with Sandrina, who seemed in shock "Bethan..." he muttered.

"She is safe my friend; you taught her well, you and Sandrina. She brought you back…" But Tristan had already lapsed back into semi-consciousness.

Arthur came, and took the child from Dagonet's arms "Bethan, were there many Celts?" he carried her to her room.

"Nay, only four; I checked them before we left, they were all dead and I retrieved our daggers in case they knew them….and I brought their own to see." She didn't make much sense, but Arthur understood. She had the foresight to think there might be some kind of identifying marks to their daggers, and so had brought them back and had brought the Celts as well to for others to make sure it was they and not some new enemy.

Arthur checked the enemy blades, they were indeed Celtish. I want to be with my father…please…" A little voice brought his attention back.

"They are treating his wounds; as soon as I may, I will let you go to him. You are an amazing child Bethan; I am immensely proud of you."

"PROUD! How can you be proud of _me_!" Eyes blazing, she struggled off her bed, wincing as she caught her neck. "_I_ amat fault! He let his guard down because of _me_! If he dies it will be on _me_….._my_ fault!" she punched at her chest with a fist.

Arthur hugged her, "Nay, Bethan, nay; it was merely an unfortunate coincidence. It would have happened even if you had not been there; indeed I could argue that you saved his life.

If he had been defeated by those four Celts and you had not been there - he would have died, without any of us knowing where he was…" she stood rigidly in his arms; he drew back and looked at her "you do not believe me?"

"Nay." Her face impassive, but her eyes full of pain and guilt. His heart went out to her; only seven and already able to kill - to save another's life admittedly, but still a kill. She was certainly a warrior in the making – definitely her father's daughter……and her mother's.

"Why do you not believe me?"

""_He _would _never_ be defeated - you are just trying to make me feel better."

"Nay, I am not; I am telling you the truth - have I ever lied to you before?"

"Nay."

"Then why would I start now..?"

She was silenced on that; but still felt wretched "I want to see my father."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

In the next room; San had taken control of herself – she, Dagonet and Merlin worked on Tristan.

His wound was deep and he had lost a lot of blood, but thanks to Bethan there was still a chance he might live. If she had done as he'd said and left him, he would probably have been dead by the time help reached him.

"You have a very brave daughter Sandrina; many adults would have faltered in the task she faced." Said Merlin, Dagonet nodded his agreement.

"Saving her father; that is all that would have mattered to her. I …I will never be able to show…my pride….and love….for what she did…" her voice faltered, tears welling as she looked at Tristan's damaged body.

His eyes fluttered briefly "Sandrina….."

"I am here, Tristan; I will not leave you, but I beg you do not leave me 5 days without sleep…" she tried to keep her voice light, even though her heart was pounding with fear.

He smiled "A _joke_…?" he whispered, before closing his eyes again.

"Do not leave me; all I ask, is you do not leave me…." She whispered, stroking his hair out of his eyes.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A few minutes later, Arthur entered the room with Guinevere and Bethan; the little girl immediately going to Tristan's side.

She looked up at her mother "Do you hate me?"

"What? _Nay_! Why would I? You have done something I am not certain many would have had the courage to do; I am so _proud_ of you I cannot express it!

You fill my soul with pride and my heart with love Bethan; because of you I have not lost all faith in mankind. I say this now, as I say it to every night to you as you sleep. You and your father are all that makes my world complete…." Mother and daughter embraced; tears filled eyes around the room.

Bethan climbed on the bed and gently lay beside him, snuggling close she bunched his shirt in her hand; a habit she had developed when her mother had been sick, and he had been her only real comfort. Her eyes wide; full of guilt, fear and love – her face as his, blank.

Until an arm snaked round her, holding her close. "You did well….daughter….I am proud."

"Nay, it is my fault papa; if you had not had me with you, you would not be injured...I…I was a burden…."

"Never that…."

"But…but…I…"

"_Never_…"

"You will not leave us….?"

"Nay..." His eyes closed again.

"Bethan, let him rest…" said her mother.

"Can I stay?"

"Of course; but in a while you must go and get something to eat." The child nodded, and dozed into a fitful slumber – still clutching her father's shirt; tears sprinkling on it…..her guard down whilst she slept.

Lancelot and the other knights came in "How are they?"

"Bethan is alright; she is in shock and she has a small cut on her neck that needs tending - but I want her to rest for now.

Tristan is the greater worry; he has lost a lot of blood, the cut is deep. But he is fighting; you can feel it in him, I _think_ he will survive." Merlin said "but we will need to watch him closely."

Guinevere glanced across at Lancelot - he caught her look and deliberately looked the other way. "I must get back to my own _patient_" he sighed "The little harpy; I think I am being persecuted by a certain sister of mine." He glared in mock anger at Sandrina.

She smiled tiredly at him "I think not brother - I am merely making use of a wonderful knight….."

"Flattering wench, save your syrup!" and he left laughing; his eyes deliberately avoiding Guinevere. All the knights laughed; save one.

Arthur had not missed the exchange, the concerns he'd had for some time increased. He had not missed the fact that his best friend and wife had been studiously avoiding each other for a goof while now. As Sandrina left to get more dressings he followed her; something told him she would be able to help.

"Sandrina, a word please; I am sorry to bother you at this time; but I think that Lancelot and Guinevere are……..and you are his sister….I…" he tailed off, unsure of what to say next.

"They both love you dearly; I do not think you have anything to concern yourself with. But I will say one thing - I would not allow aught to happen to hurt you. Is that a help?" She smiled reassuringly.

"I value your advice Sandrina, and I will mark it; I am trying to be a better husband."

"And if you try, then you will ultimately succeed…" Guinevere came onto the gallery "A good friend told me that" She smiled "I love you my husband; and my friend guides me well."

She went to embrace Sandrina "But your support is still needed" she whispered in her ear "for the task, whilst lessening, hurts me still..."

Sandrina hugged her back "I am always here for you, my friend".

"I hope Tristan recovers quickly; I will come back to see him soon." She walked away holding Arthur's hand.

A breeze blew past Sandrina and around them as they walked; for the first time she felt things there might be turning a corner.

She got the dressings and hurried back to Tristan "How fares he?"

"Unchanged in the five minutes you have been gone." smiled Dagonet.

Bethan suddenly let out a shout "FATHER!" and sat up; eyes wide with fright, trembling….

"All is well, All is well – it is only a bad dream; you are safe now, you are safe." Her mother soothed; knowing she had been dreaming of the attack.

The child threw herself against her father "Please do not die, papa…..please….I beg you God…do not take my papa from me….."

Sandrina felt the tears pricking her eyes "he will be well Bethan, he will. He would not leave us; he would not." But the little girl picked up on her mother's worry.

"You cannot say that; you cannot…you do not know! It was my fault – it was all _my_ fault!" she shouted.

Gawain had come in - he sat down next to her "Why?"

"What?"

"Why is it all your fault?"

Lancelot came running in – brought by the shouts, Amila following behind her right arm hanging loosely.

"What has happened?"

"She thinks she is to blame for what has happened to Tristan" Gawain replied without looking at him, his eyes still on his little friend "Now tell us why…"

As Bors and Galahad came in; Bethan told them all that had happened……….

0-0-0-0-0-0

Twenty minutes later, the shocked audience stood in silence as Bethan finished "So you see, it _is_ all my fault." Tears welled, but she would not let them fall.

Gawain gripped her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him "You are not to blame Bethan. We knights, who are more than brothers to him, know that he would not have been able to fight all four Celts at the same time….."

"But they were _not_ all at the same time!"

"Nay, but they probably would have been if you were not there; they used you as bait for him. When your father got hurt, you helped him; if you had not been there he would have died."

"But…"

"No buts…it is as simple as that, and when he wakes up he'll agree with me; and he _will_ wake up - for I know how much he loves you and your mother. He would never willing leave you.

You are a strong person Bethan, brave and courageous too. I would be proud to ride with you into battle; and I think you will make a formidable scout one day, just like your father." He hugged her.

"I see now why you best my little bastards every time….." Bors chipped in gruffly, amazed at her resilience.

She hugged Gawain, "I am sorry I was mean before…"

"When?"

"This morning; when I pushed you over, you are a good friend. I am sorry."

"That is all forgotten; on _one_ condition…."

"What?"

"You stop blaming yourself…"

"I will try…" he ruffled her hair.

"Get some rest, little scout." With that he, Galahad and Bors left.

As Sandrina was cleaning the small wound on Bethan's neck, she looked across at Lancelot and Amila.

"What are you doing up?"

"I heard the shouting too; I was worried for her. Is she well?"

"She _follows_ me now! I cannot even escape the wench by leaving the bloody room!" Sighed Lancelot.

"I came to see the _child_! I care naught for you, you _arrogant_ pig!"

"Quiet!" commanded Merlin "the attraction between you is obvious. But if you wish to ignore it…well, that is your choice. However, I will not have you fighting it, and each other, in here. Go back to your room Amila and take Lancelot with you."

"I…..._her_!"

"Me…_him_!" they retorted together.

"_GO_!" They slunk out.

"They would make a good couple." Merlin smirked.

"Aye, If they do not kill each other first they might!" smiled Dagonet.

Lucan came in "Bethan;want to come out and walk with me?"

"Nay, I wish only to stay with my father."

"Then I will stay too…" he looked at his father, begging him to understand. Dagonet smiled his agreement and ruffled the boy's hair; she was right, it _was_ a 'forever thing'. He could be near her that way, one day.

Lucan settled into one chair as San did the other. Dagonet and Merlin left them.

Once outside, Merlin touched Dagonet's arm…."You are a good man."

"Why?"

"I think you know…."

Dagonet looked down, he sighed "Do not speak of it…it will serve no purpose."

"I would not, for I know Destiny has decreed it this way – she is for him. But I wished you to know; I respect you greatly, Dagonet. Your boy _will_ be with Bethan; rest assured. They are as one heart, I know. I do not mean to hurt you…"

"You do not; it is good to know, she is an admirable little maid." He walked away.

Merlin watched _'one day, you will not always be alone'_ he thought.

Back in the room, Bethan whispered into her father's ear "I will not leave until you wake; until you are well. You are all to me papa; I would gladly have given my life to save you this suffering." As a single tear coursed down her cheek, a matching one fell from both Sandrina and Lucan's eyes.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Three days later, Sandrina sat in the chair – Lucan in the other and Bethan on the bed. None of them had strayed beyond the door, unless they'd had to, in that time.

Bethan had spent the time merely snuggled to her father - bunching his shirt in her hand and listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Lucan sat watching her, occasionally snuggling up to her to reassure her; only leaving for a few hours at night.

Sandrina, would constantly hold Tristan's hand – she had already performed 'the tie that binds' and 'to cut the pain'. Having had Tristan tie his soul to hers already; she knew it would not make much difference, but she wanted him to know that she felt the same; it was a shock, however, to find that Bethan had also done 'the tie that binds'….

"If you both die, I will not want to go on without you." Was all the answer she got, when she tackled her daughter about it.

At night she would join Bethan on the bed; her arm draped over her and Tristan, comforted by the fact she had not lost them - still marvelling at her daughter's courage.

At this time, Lucan would creep back to his father – hugging him close and asking again and again why these things happened. A question Dagonet could never answer.

But after three days, Tristan did seem to be rallying; the fever he had developed that first night, had been waning for almost 4 hours now. Each time she felt his head it seemed cooler than before.

Bethan was asleep when she felt a movement under her cheek. Her eyes flew open – '_was..?_' she held herself as still as she'd seen him do, hardly breathing '_there it was again'._

Then an arm came round her shoulder….

"Sandrina? Bethan?" he croaked.

"I am here father…." Her voice was steady, but her eyes held tears that she could not, would not, hold back; and they quickly soaked his shirt.

"Still here little one, are you not bored?"

"Never! Mother! Mother he is back!" She finally sat up and saw the familiar eyes of her father regarding her. She braced herself for recriminations, blame, and hate; instead the arm pulled her back down.

"I have missed you both whilst I was asleep."

"You will never know how we have missed you."

"I think my shirt bears witness to that."

Sandrina moved out of the chair"A jest? And only three days; I thought you might at least try and pay me back for your five?"

"I'd thought about it…."

"Did you see Heaven?"

"Nay, I'm looking at _that_ right now…"

She kissed him hard "Do not you _ever_ frighten me like that again! When Bethan brought you in, laid across your horse; I thought…."

"Shh…I did not perish, did I? But still I see you felt the need to tie me down." he held up his hand, wincing at the pain in his shoulder.

"Well, I thought you might run away; and I was not the only one" She indicated Bethan's wrist.

"Never, even if I was able."

"Oh Tristan!" and she wept _'the first time she had ever really wept'_, he thought; at least where any might see her.

"Mother, please do not cry; look even I have stopped now." though her tears, Sandrina laughed. A little breeze fell through the window; it would alright now - he would live.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Some time later, when Sandrina had gone to fetch them some food, and Lucan had gone to see Dagonet, Bethan and her father were left alone.

Clearing her throat, she sat in the chair and regarded him solemnly "It was my fault; I know, I know, what everyone says…." She waved at him, before he could speak "But I was a burden at best, and a liability at worst." Her father struggled to sit up, wincing at the pain "Does it hurt badly".

"A little; 'but pain is good…when you are in pain you know you are alive.' " Another of her mother's favourite sayings, they both smiled. "You were not to blame, and I want to hear no more about it."

"But…"

"No buts…I have spoken to your mother and the other knights and they all say the same as I; without you I would be dead."

"Aye, I know what they say…but.."

"There is _no_ but…" His voice held a note of finality. "I love you daughter; _nothing _will _ever_ change that."

She flew to him….enveloped in his arms, that was how San found them.

He looked over Bethan's head, his eyes full of love and he painfully raised his bad arm for her to come to him; soon all three were close together - souls bound for eternity; a family that even fate could not now pull apart.

0-0-0-0

Destiny's path for these three was now nearly complete; but Fate has a funny way of always staying one turn ahead……

Fate's game takes a new turn, a knight and a Woad were the new players, these three too, would play their part; the wheels of Destiny move forward once more….


	19. Love & Hate

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Nineteen – Love and Hate_**

A week later, Tristan was well on the road to recovery. His arm was still sore, but it was mending well; he'd always been a quick healer. San was relieved that, despite coming so close to losing the two people she loved most in the world, they were still together and happy.

She'd been ill for a week now - she felt tired all the time and even Guinevere said she should stop worrying about others so much and look after herself. She had lost some weight, but that could be down to the sickness. She was always being sick at the moment.

Still, Tristan didn't seem to mind – for a man with an injured arm that had nearly died he didn't let it stop him making love to her; she smiled at the memory.

He was so different when they were alone; in public he was _always_ loving – looks, a brief smile, even kissing her in the open on occasion; though his usual reticent manner was there.

But when they were alone; he was more than just loving, he was kind and passionate. He would laugh too; something he rarely did outside their room, their little family.

He was still quiet a lot; but why did they need words? They were so close now they could almost read each other's minds. He loved her, and not just physically. She could feel him when he entered a room, even if there were to be a hundred people around them, she would know he was there and would be able to immediately catch his eye.

She could tell if he was angry, hurt, happy or sad before he even said; and he was the same with her - and Bethan. They three were tied, and she thanked God every day for it.

Tristan spoke into the early morning light, as she snuggled in his arms – despite his shoulder, he did not like her away from him. "What goes on behind those blue eyes of yours?"

She laughed out loud into the waning darkness.

"What? Why is that funny, I see not the jest?"

"I was just wondering at how we can almost read each other's minds, and then you ask what I am thinking!"

He smiled at her"I see; well, we had better get some more practice…" he leant over and rested his forehead against hers, looking deeply into her eyes. "What am I thinking now?"

She kissed him passionately, rubbing her thumbs along his tattoos "I love you too." she whispered; moving to be able to stroke his side with her hands, finding herself rewarded with a shudder.

"I think we are doing well" he groaned against her lips; his own hands running over her body………..

_CRASH_! The sound of pottery breaking against the wall could be heard from Lancelot's room above them.

"PIG!"

"WITCH!"

"BASTARD!"

"BANSHEE!"

Sandrina sighed and tried to move away from Tristan "Leave them!" he whispered, "let me love you San…" he smiled at her, seeing her waver.

"I _HATE_ you, you _PIG_!"

"If I do not go and sort this out, they will kill each other!" she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I cannot see a bad side to that."

"_Tristan_!" she went to slap him playfully, and he pulled her back into his arms, grimacing at the sudden pain in his shoulder.

"Does it hurt overmuch?"

"A little - 'but pain is good, when you are in pain you know you are alive" he mimicked her.

"Another jest Sir Knight!" She kissed him.

"I love you; do not ever forget that…"

"How could I? Even death could not keep us apart... Tris…" he kissed her hard, his hands started their roaming; but she wriggled free "Hold onto that thought; I will be quick, I promise."

She dragged on some clothes and quickly left the room; as she went he smirked as he heard her muttering "please _God_ – let me be quick!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

She hurried up the stairs as Dagonet came along the gallery "I was about to put a stop to it..."

"Do not worry – I will; I have had enough of this!" Just then she felt terribly sick, she shook her head and thankfully the feeling passed.

Dagonet shot forward "Are you well; you went very pale of a sudden?"

"I am well; a bit tired that is all - _this_" she gestured to the door "is wearing me out!"

_CRASH!_ Another piece of pottery hit the door, causing San and Dagonet to step back.

"WHY DO YOU NOT JUST _DROP DEAD_!"

"IF I LIVED WITH _YOU_ - I WOULD!"

"How long do you think they could keep this up?" He asked.

"God knows; _too long_, it seems to me…."

"I _HATE_ YOU!"

"SO YOU KEEP BLOODY SAYING! WELL THE FEELING IS MUTUAL!"

"Right!" San had had enough, "I am going in and banging their sodding heads together!"

"Good luck, I will wait here in case you need me" though, by the murderous look on her face, he doubted it. Lancelot and Amila were going to _deeply_ regret this, he smiled; watching her throw open the door and storm in - just as all the other knights and Odell came running, except Tristan who could hear it all clearly enough downstairs….

0-0-0-0-0-0

The door flew open and in stormed Sandrina; just dodging a cup that was meant for Lancelot….

"STOP THAT!"

"I am sorry it was meant for him! It is HIS fault!"

"Oh I _see_! It is my fault because I _DUCKED?_!"

"AYE!"

"Shut up Lancelot!"

"What?"

"See? She is on _my_ side…"

"Nay, I am not…"

"What?"

"Now you two listen to me and listen good, because I _HATE_ repeating myself and if I have to I will be very upset; and if I GET very upset, _someone _will suffer - and do you know who that will be? It will be YOU TWO!

You will stop this fighting RIGHT NOW! You will stop screaming and shouting RIGHT NOW! If you do not stop it I am PERSONALLY going to BURY the pair of you up on Baden Hill; and I will not care very much if you are even bloody _dead_ first!

I am very happy with my lover in our room beneath you; but it is not very romantic to have you two shrieking like banshees at each other, and throwing pottery about _ALL_ THE _BLOODY_ TIME!

If I have to come up here ONCE MORE I will kill you; and I do not mean the sort of 'kill you' in jest - I mean I will LITERALLY _TAKE_ YOUR LIFE! _BOTH_ OF YOU!" She was breathing hard, and she was seriously angry.

"Now find a way to get along as this is going to be all that there is for eternity; whether it is here or in Heaven is up to you - because if I have to come up here again……well, you know what I'll do and this lot" she jerked her finger to the knights behind her "will tell you I do not threaten or bluff, I PROMISE!"

Lancelot and Amila stood open mouthed at her "Oh, and by the by – Amila, your arm must be feeling better as you threw that cup with it, albeit a feeble throw!" She turned and stormed out.

Odell looked on in wonder as she pushed her way through them "She is very formidable when she is angry, is she not?" he asked the assembled Knights, including Arthur.

"You do _not_ know the bloody half of it." Muttered Gawain.

"She could remove your lungs with a spoon if she felt like it; none of us tease her overmuch, that is for certain – and she _loves_ us!" Added Galahad.

"She has a temperament about her that certainly keeps things ticking over" Arthur smiled diplomatically.

"Even I do not deliberately piss her off _too_ often!" Laughed Bors.

Sandrina spun round on them"where were you lot before? I am NOT their bloody _mother_! You should ALL be sorting them out! Only Dagonet came to help!" She smiled gratefully at the large knight "where were the rest of you? I have a bloody good mind to bury ALL of you!" And she marched off.

"See?" said Galahad "Scary."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Once back downstairs, she promptly walked to the washroom and was violently sick; Tristan was concerned, this had been the fourth day in a row that she was sick on and off all day.

"Are you well?" He struggled to get off the bed, as she sorted herself out and returned.

"I am fine; now where were we?" she leant over him forcing him to lay down again; just as Bethan and Lucan came running in…

"Mama, father? We are just off to see the horses for a bit, we will be back in a little while. Boy did you give Lancelot what for, we could hear you in the _compound_!" laughed Bethan and then they were gone.

"She is like a whirlwind."

"Aye, a scary one sometimes."

"Like her mother…."

"I do _not_ scare you…I think you are the _only_ one I do _not_ scare!"

"Nay, you do not – whenever you get mad, I just imagine you naked…."

"Tris…." But she got no further.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"I would not upset her again" said Arthur from the door "Something tells me she was not jesting. But then she has been breaking you two up for two weeks now."

"But…."

"You can almost touch the sexual tension between you two!" Laughed Bors "Tis half the problem - instead of fighting, start _loving_! Have many bastards like me; life will be good and you will not piss off San anymore, she will not get mad at us and everyone is happy!" he walked away laughing.

Odell just looked pointedly at his sister and walked away.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Amila sighed as everyone left; she sat down on the bed and flexed her right arm. It was the first time she'd tried to use it in days, she had thought it would never work again. That she would be a cripple the rest of her life. That was what had made her so angry all the time, the thought of being a cripple; she could not bear it.

She flexed her arm again; it was weak, but she could move it about, and she had got a good shot in. She smiled at the memory of the look on Lancelot's face as he dodged the cup.

He sat down on the bed next to her "I do not think we should fight like that again; she really meant it this time, I know my sister all too well. I think next time we should just……walk away".

"I am sorry…."

"About what?" he was surprised; after two weeks of open warfare, he had not expected an apology for anything "That you missed me with the cup, or that you have just smashed up my room….._again_?"

"I…._your_ room?"

"Aye, it was the nearest one to bring you to." He changed the subject "we really upset her and I am sorry for it; I dearly love my sister."

"Really, sister?"

"Well, in all ways that count. She raised me from the dead, albeit on Merlin's orders, along with Dagonet and Tristan, she supports me and is always there for me when I need her. She is closer to me than family, she _is_ my blood; and I am sorry for distressing her so.

She has had much to deal with of late, most of which you know, and I seem to be adding to it; with your aid. Though I have to say, I have enjoyed our little disagreements!" he laughed.

She smiled and sighed "_are_ we bound for eternity?"

"Aye, according to San; I am sorry, if I had known how much you would loathe me I would have let nature take its course and just continued to hope you would recover."

"You _wanted_ me to recover?"

"I did when you were sick; afterwards, was when I began to question the sanity of that thought! Pax, Pax!" he laughed raising his hands in defence, seeing her face tighten.

"But I do not actually _loathe_ you; I just think you are an arrogant, selfish, bossy pig…"

What? Is that Woad speak for liking someone?" A smirk hovered around his lips.

He was sitting very close to her, she had to agree with the knight they called Bors, she definitely felt something when they were together – but she was a Woad, she was meant to be with her own kind; though Guinevere seemed happy enough with Arthur, she said as much "Guinevere seems happy….."

He stood abruptly, pain sparking in his eyes "aye, aye she does; I am glad".

"Ah, I see….."

"Nay, you do _not_ see; she is the wife of my best friend, almost a brother - my commander and my king" he looked briefly out the window "I would never……_could_ never…." rubbing a hand over his eyes he dipped his head in defeat "heed me not…just heed me not."

She suddenly felt very sorry for this knight; yes, he was arrogant and bossy – but he was deeply sad at the loss of one he loved. She understood that; had not she lost Almar, her betrothed, this last 12 month? This loss was worse for him; Almar was dead, she could think of him aye, she could - but in her mind he would always be true to her.

Whereas for Lancelot his loss walked about him every day, showing him how happy she was with another. His honour bound him not to try and reclaim her, and Alima admired his strength. She did not know if she could do it.

He was over at the window, staring out once more – she went to him and touched his arm. "Mayhap we should be friends now; what say you? If we make as good friends as we did enemies, we should get along very well!" She smiled.

Lancelot looked at her and had the overwhelming urge to hug her -- she could be undeniably adorable when she wanted to. He could feel the tension between them; he knew he had feelings for her. That was why he had fought with her so much; to avoid confronting that attraction. He felt he was being untrue to……

But that did not matter now. He could not think about that; but he _could_ think about Amila. He wanted to hug her but he was unsure of her reaction, although she _was_ holding out an olive branch. So he did; she stood still for a moment in the knight's embrace, and then hesitantly hugged him back. "Friends…" he said quietly in her ear "Aye, we will make the very best of friends."

She smiled against his cheek. "Aye, best friends…."

0-0-0-0

Outside the room, Merlin smiled; it was a whisper thin line between love and hate, and he felt these two were finally crossing it.

This would not be the end of their squabbles; but another path was being followed as it should be - once again, San was working her own magic on the knights….

He looked out across the gallery, seeing her slowly helping Tristan to sit in the sun for a while; like her, the scout loathed being cooped in the room - but he also noticed the tall knight, Dagonet, watching them; his friendly face a mixture of pain and love.

He felt a sadness for the honourable man. He loved her, yet he knew and accepted he could not have her; that was torment indeed. If only he knew of Lancelot's suffering on a similar issue.

But he doubted Dagonet had even toyed with the idea of betraying Tristan by trying to usurp him in Sandrina's affections. Possibly because he knew he would be doomed to failure; that woman loved the scout to the very fibre of her being. Naught and no one would come betwixt them; he had counselled Odell on the matter only days before.

She weaved her magic around people that was certain, as did her daughter. Elementals both, Woads at heart; and he was glad of it.

Back in the room, Lancelot began to open up to the young woman stood next to him staring out the window at a new day….

0-0-0-0-0-0

Fate's game plays on; the Knight and Woad's path still to follow to its end and now the one known as Dagonet takes his part, with the first three still playing their roles. All their paths mingling now…..

And so the wheels of Destiny move forward again…. Surprises in store for all……


	20. Jealousy

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Twenty – Jealousy_**

It was a month after that last argument, that Lancelot and Dagonet tackled Tristan in the tack room.

"Where is San?" Asked Lancelot.

"Why?"

"We do not want her to hear us" volunteered Dagonet "You know how she gets when she thinks anyone is fussing."

"She is away with Bethan and Lucan - they went riding."

"Aye, I remember Lucan telling me now; they willl be gone a while then."

"So, what is wrong with her?" Lancelot again.

"I do not know…she has not said aught."

At that Gawain and Galahad came in "are you talking about San?" asked Gawain.

"Aye, because we are as worried as you – she seems powerful sickly of late." Galahad added.

"She appears depressed also, and she looks so ill…." Lancelot muttered.

"Even my Van is getting concerned; though I get the feeling she has her suspicions of what's occurring" offered Bors as he came in.

The first three knights sighed; they could never discuss Sandrina without all the others getting in on it too.

It was funny; she loved them all so much – particularly Tristan, which went without saying – but the three she had help raise, as they put it, felt they were special to her somehow. They were right; she felt kindred to them…..more than the others.

Except maybe Bors, who she adored because he was so horribly blunt and was so nice to her that first night. He adored her equally as much, after his Vanora. She was a warrior, a survivor; she brought his brother, his Dagonet, back - and she loved him and his fellow knights…that was enough for him.

"She keeps being sick; I heard her this morning again, after Tristan left." Amila joined them, along with her brother; all the knights looked at each other, smirking, as Lancelot's face lit up.

He walked over to her "How is the arm?"

"Still good enough to throw a cup at you – I am even working on a plate!" she laughed "But it is getting better…..just a little slowly."

"It is the sickness that is concerning all of us" said Dagonet, changing the subject. He was worried to death about Sandrina – for reasons he made sure the others did not know.

"She seems so tired all the time" added Odell "she used to go riding for hours, now it is only a short time…"

Tristan bristled; what was the Woad checking up on her for? Sandrina was no concern of his. He tried to control his jealousy – after all, he knew she loved only him.

At that, the topic of conversation entered the tack room. Her surprise at seeing all the knights, Odell _and_ Amila congregated in the small space, was evident.

"I would have thought the Tavern would have been more comfortable and, at least, a little roomier!" She smiled.

Bethan and Lucan barrelled past with coincidental "Father!" before rushing to their respective male parents for hugs, drawing a silent 'aww' from the rest. Tristan's face remained as passive as always, but his eyes lit up at the sight of his two females.

"Hello Gawain! Courting anyone new yet?" Asked Bethan.

"Hello little scout." it had become his pet name for her; which the other knights, including Arthur, were also starting to adopt. It pleased her, as she hated being called child, or worse still - little maid.

"Nay, none at the moment, sadly – but mayhap when you are older?" He laughed, ignoring the glare he got from Tristan - and the one he got from Lucan.

"She's mine!" jealousy rising, Lucan stepped in front of Bethan, a mutinous look on his face.

"I am? Since when did that happen, no one has asked _me?_!" Bethan didn't know whether to be shocked or annoyed.

"I did not think I had to - I _am _nearly 10 now; you will be eight in a week. We have known each other for a year."

"So?"

"Well…I…" this wasn't going like he had planned. The knights all looked on amused; their little scout was not going to make this easy for the boy.

"Well, what?"

"I care about you…"

"And I you; but that does not make me yours…"

"Nay…I suppose it does not…." he was dejected. Dagonet felt for him, he glanced at San; who smiled encouragingly.

"It will be well." she mouthed.

Bethan flung her arms round his neck "but you know I love you Lucan."

"You do?" the boys eyes lit up; so much so that as Lancelot went to make a joke, Amila kicked him.

"OWWW! You _vixen_! What was that for?"

"Because I knew what you were thinking!" she hissed "do _not_!"

Tristan and Sandrina shared a knowing look, as they overheard the exchange.

"Of course I do; you are my best friend."

"Oh….well, I do not _want_ to be your _friend_ - so there." and he ran off.

"I better go after him" said Dagonet.

Sandrina touched his arm; he looked down at the small hand that held all their worlds without her even knowing - and wondered what they would all do if anything befell her?

"They will fare well enough, Dag - 'true love' and all that?"

He smiled sadly " 'never ran smooth'….aye I know it." he left. She felt for him, he always seemed so sad these days.

"What did I do?" Bethan was confused.

"He loves you as more than a friend, little scout." ventured Gawain, kneeling in front of her. She had become very attached to him since her father's injury; aside from Lucan, he had become her newest best friend. He treated her as her father did; like an adult, an equal, she liked that.

"Well, I love him also – so I do not understand…." Her face, though as impassive as her father's, had huge blue eyes that held the world….and also complete confusion.

Gawain hugged her "Oh, little scout – you will break a lot of hearts with looks like that! But as to your little companion, he does love you as more than I friend I think. Lucan went through much before he came to us and Dagonet…."

"I know he told me."

"Then you will also know that he is the sort of boy that when he gives his heart he does it only once, and forever…" he glanced at Tristan, and mock whispered "a bit like your father has with your mother." Tristan shot him a look, to which Gawain merely smiled.

"He loves me _that _much?" the awe in her voice caused Tristan to smirk.

"I think so, aye."

"Does that mean I will have to move furniture with him all the time…"

"_What_?"

"Well, Mama and father are always moving furniture around – though they do it much quieter these days; well, that is what Lancelot says, it is because they love each other they make all that noise moving the furniture….."

For a full four minutes, no one moved as they all went through what she was talking about - then Gawain bit his lip, as he remembered her conversation with Lucan; Lancelot who'd twigged immediately turned his laugh into a cough; he whispered to a confused looking Amila – who blushed bright red "_Lancelot_!"

One by one the knights realised, and one by one fought to keep a straight face; the only one who succeeded was Tristan. Though he did not dare look at Sandrina; he could feel the heat radiating off her face from where he stood!

"Umm….nay, you will not have to 'move furniture' with him for a good few years yet. In fact I think if you did it too soon your father would be helping Lucan find a spot on Baden Hill!" Sniggers went round the group.

He swallowed his laughter "so you see he loves you in a different way to how you love him…"

"Nay, he does not….."

"He does not?"

"Nay…..Lucan has always had my heart; I just thought he knew he was my best friend too. I better go and tell him, I do not like him to be sad when he does not have cause to."

They all watched her run across the compound to where he was sitting with his father, they watched her speak to him - then they watched him run at her so fast he knocked her off her feet.

"I would say he was happy with whatever she said…." Observed Galahad with a smile, to no one in particular.

Bors finally let his laugh loose, "Well, I am off to move some furniture with Van!" Tristan and Sandrina knew they would _never_ hear the end of it now; and _they_ had not even started it.

"Well, unless you are all planning on spending an evening in the tack room, I suggest we all meet in the tavern later…" she looked at Tristan "I have something to tell _you_ now."

"She wants to move some furniture!" Galahad winked.

"_Nay_, but I do have something important to tell him - why I have been ill."

Tristan walked toward her "Tell me…"

"Not here…"

"Alright…" he sighed - he hoped she would well. They ambled away to their room.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

They stood in the tack room for some time; Lancelot looked at the other knights "Are we going to just stand here and not find out what is wrong with our sister?"

"But they have gone to their room." said Galahad.

"How many times have we listened at each others doors; are you Knights or mice!"

"This is different."

"Too bloody right it is; you know well what Tristan is – when does he ever say more than two words at a time? How will we find out what is wrong with her? You know what he will say: 'she fares well' or 'she is dead' – nothing more."

Amila smirked, but she didn't believe him; until she saw all the other knights nodding in thoughtful agreement.

They made their way to the door, but couldn't hear anything….

"This is bloody stupid!" muttered Bors.

"What is?"

They all turned to see Arthur watching them with an amused smile. Lancelot quickly explained - to their surprise their commander and king crowded to the door with them. He liked the woman a lot, and did not want to think of anything happening to her. They still couldn't hear anything….

Lancelot was not going to give up however, she was his sister and he _would _find out what was wrong with her.

He spied Bethan and Lucan running around in the compound "Knights, I think we have our spies!"

All eyes turned to the two children "You _cannot_!" Amila was horrified.

"What? It is an excellent idea - as mine always are!" He grinned.

"You cannot get her to spy on her own _parents_, Lancelot – that is _wrong_, that is wrong on so _many_ levels I am shocked!"

"Sadly not to silence though" He smiled and held up his hands as she glared "it is this simple Amila; we all want to know what is wrong with Sandrina. We also know that Tristan will not tell us; or if he does, it will be the barest bones of it - when what we really want is the meat; and we now know that we cannot hear anything through this bloody door….except the odd sound, certainly not enough to work out what is being said. So what other option do we have?"

"Ask _HER_!"

"Shhhh….do you want them to know what we are doing! Ask who?"

"If it is not a problem, then why worry about them knowing - and the who, is _Sandrina_!"

"If she had have wanted to tell us, she would have done it in the tack room!"

"How do you know! Maybe she just wants to tell _him_ first; he is her lover after all!" Bors noticed Dagonet flinch "so he has a right to know _first_!" she hissed right into Lancelot's face.

"I still think my way is better."

"You are the most stubborn, irritating man I have ever met!"

"_Me? Stubborn?_! I am not stubborn - I merely stand my ground!"

"Do _not_ make me laugh! Stand your ground? You are so bloody _stubborn_ you take _root_ in it!"

"Goddess, they are off again!" Gawain groaned.

"What are you all doing? Are you two fighting again?" Bethan piped up, until Bors clamped a hand over her mouth whilst Dagonet shushed her.

All the knights exchanged looks and nodded to Lancelot, including Arthur….

"Bethan, do you love me?" he smiled as ingratiatingly as he could.

"What do you want Lancelot?" she sighed.

"Can you do us all a _huge_ favour?"

"I do not know, can I?" a passive face regarded him.

'_She was her mother's daughter alright'_ he thought. He smiled "We need to know what your parents are talking about in there, can you find out and tell us, there's a good little maid…."

Buttering her up was not a good way to get round Bethan; Amila noticed that Lancelot's charm worked no better on the daughter, than it did on the mother.

"Nay."

"Good…I…._Nay_?"

"Nay - I do not know what is going on, and I do not see why I should tell you if I did."

All eyes now turned to Gawain; if anyone could get round her it would be him. He sighed - kneeling down he addressed the small girl in front of him. He quickly thought how she looked and acted like Tristan; the same intense stare, only with blue eyes, the passive face…

"Bethan, we all think your mother is ill and we want to know for certain. Your father, whilst our friend and brother, is an intensely private man and we think he would not tell us - so we need you to find out…."

"Oh _that_! Why did you not say so first - I already know. They took me in and explained not long ago."

All eyes were now on her "and" prompted Gawain "how is she, little scout?"

"Well, I cannot tell you what it is – I gave my word. But I can tell you she is not sick or dying; does that help?"

"Aye." the young knight smiled.

"_Nay, _it does not – what is the _matter _with her?" Lancelot was getting exasperated.

"I gave my word; you would not have me break my word?"

"Nay" he sighed honestly "but she is well?"

"Aye, very well."

"So, why is it so quiet?"

Bethan tipped her head to one side listening, the Woad and the scout in her taking over "they are moving furniture again…."

"YOU PEEPING PERVERTS!" cried Amila, jumping back from the door.

Lancelot clamped a hand over her mouth "I will take this - _patient_ of mine back to her room."

As he went to walk away pulling Amila with him, he let out a howl "She BIT me; the vixen bloody _BIT_ me!" but there was laughter in his voice.

He went to run after her as she ran off laughing; but was stopped in his tracks by Bors - mulling things over in his mind, he suddenly made a connection……

"Bloody hell! San is PREGNANT!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Everyone stopped………dead "_WHAT_!"

"Nay!"

"Really?"

"Do you think so Bors?"

"He has had 11 bastards of his own so _he_ should know if anyone does."

All eyes swung once again to Bethan, who was slinking away with Lucan, "Nay, I am not saying, I gave my word."

Dagonet had a thought "Lucan were you with Bethan?"

"_Aye_" He said slowly "I am always with Bethan…" The boy did _not_ like the way this was going.

"Do _you_ know what ails San?"

He looked at Bethan, he looked at his father - he was deeply torn, the two people he loved most in the world wanted him to say different things…

Bethan shook her head, folding her arms and scowling – Dagonet nodded, smiling.

He took a deep breath "I….I cannot say…..I _cannot_!"

"I knew you would not fail me!" Bethan threw her arms round his neck and squeezed. Then gave a triumphant look at the knights "You will just have to wait."

The door swung open and dishevelled Sandrina stood there - with a face like thunder "NAY, they will not! If I tell you, will you GO AWAY!"

All nodded – then her face broke into a huge smile "Bors is right; and Arthur? I am ashamed of you - listening at doors, and you a _king_!" Then she shut the door. But they could hear manly laughter as well as hers the other side.

Amidst all the whooping and hollering, Dagonet's sad smile made Bors' heart bleed.

"That is good news for them, indeed it is." was all he said quietly "Do you want to come to our room for something to eat Bethan, I think Lucan would like that?" and he walked slowly away, the two children talking excitedly around him.

Merlin stood on the gallery and watched – an honourable man. _'Sandrina you must help him'_, he thought.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Amila went to Lancelot amidst all the noise "Did I hurt you badly?" she looked at his hand, there was a row of fine teeth marks in one of his fingers.

"Nay, I have had worse bites from a sword; but you have sharp teeth my lady!" he laughed, his face still alive with the excitement of Sandrina's news.

Her soft lips gently caressed his finger, causing him to breathe in sharply. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Kissing it better…." Her innocent eyes looked up at him as she continued to minister to his hand.

"Do you know what you do to me?" he ground out.

"The same as you do to me?"

"What!"

"I said…"

"I heard….but do you…I mean…I have…"

"Issues? I know; but I think I could help you deal with them…." She smiled that sweet smile she had. "You are not the only to one to have loved and lost."

"I am not?"

"Nay, let us go back to your…my…_the_ room….and discuss it; it is not something I want to talk about here."

She took his hand and led him to the stairs. Odell watched them go "I hope he knows what he is doing" he smiled.

0-0-0-0-0

And so the wheels of Destiny move forward again. Good news for one is not for another – and has love finally found Sandrina's brother?


	21. Changes

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Twenty-One – Changes_**

"Tell me…" Tristan had waited just long enough to reach their room and close the door.

Sandrina hesitated, she had been shocked herself with the news – though she had suspected it for a few weeks. She finally had it confirmed yesterday by Merlin; she had hardly been able to wait to tell him.

But now the moment was here, she was strangely nervous; his gripping her shoulders, almost shaking her, brought her out of her reverie "TELL ME!"

She stroked his cheek "do not fret so Tristan, I am well; in fact I am _very_ well." she smiled at him.

"Then tell me what is wrong…"

"I am pregnant..."

"What?"

"I am having a baby…._your_ baby, Tristan…"

The embrace she was swept into almost crushed her "I take it your pleased?" she grinned.

"Pleased is not enough of a word…"

"We must tell Bethan…."

"I will fetch her…."

He called her in from the compound, the other knights too wrapped up in their concerns to hear him.

Bethan and Lucan came running in "What is it Father?"

"Your mother is to have a baby - my baby." he smiled at her, rather stating the obvious San thought with a smile.

"Oh…I see…." Tristan hesitated; he thought she would be pleased. "You will have your _own_ child…"

Suddenly realisation dawned "Nay, I will have _two_ children."

"Really? You would still want me?"

"What sort of fool question is that!"

"A question of a child worrying she will lose her father to another; she is only seven, eight next week, Tristan – sometimes we all forget she is still a child at heart." interjected Sandrina.

"I will have a daughter, and hopefully a son. But if the child is another girl, so long as she is like her sister I will be well pleased. Come to me daughter." She flew into his arms "I will always love you Bethan."

"I will always love you too father…" But inside her heart she worried; what if he _did_ like the new baby more than her - if her mother had a son, what then? Would he still teach her to scout, to fight, to bow?

"Bethan, I do not want the other knights to know yet - will you give your word, not to tell them?" San wanted it to be their secret, for just a little while.

"Aye, Mama of course – you have my word. We need to go and play - I will leave you to your……celebrations."

After the two children had gone, Tristan looked concerned "she still worries does she not? I can see it in her eyes."

"She does – but only our actions will soothe her; she will believe us soon enough that she still has your love and support."

"Come here…." She went into his embrace "I love you; I love you so much Sandrina."

"No more than I love you; Tristan you are in every fibre of my being, I never thought I could love anyone such as I love you."

They sank onto the bed; his hands in her hair, he stopped kissing her for a moment –he let his hand rest on her stomach. "How far?"

"About a three month; the baby will be here, if God is good, six months from now."

He smiled and kissed her stomach; then, opening her shirt as he went, he kissed his way to her lips. Their breath coming in short gasps as passion overtook them…..

Sandrina could hear muffled voices and scuffling outside the door. She tried to ignore it, losing herself in Tristan's embrace; his arms about her, holding her to him.

There it was again, only louder now and angry; what were they doing! "Ignore them…" Tristan breathed against her neck, his lips making hot lazy circles on her skin. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, driving her senses mad.

She heard Bethan's voice, saying something about having to wait…."I cannot! _Damn them_….let me tell them and they will go!" She reluctantly withdrew from his embrace.

"So much for the secret…" but there was humour in his voice, they would have this time for just the two of them; later he would speak to his friends, his brothers, and they would settle things with Bethan - for he hated the child to doubt him so…

"With that lot, I am surprised I made it this long!" She sighed with a smile; before flinging open the door, mock anger in her face…

"NAY, they won't! If I tell you, will you GO AWAY!"

They all nodded.

"Bors is right; and Arthur? I am ashamed of you - listening at doors, and you a _king_!" She shut the door laughing at the sea of shocked faces, including Arthur's guilty one. Tristan laughed with her…

She lay next to him "where were we?" he asked, his warm brown eyes full of love and passion.

"I think we were about here…." She pulled open his shirt and began kissing his chest.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

After Bethan and Lucan had run outside, Bethan had sat down on the ground abruptly.

Lucan sat down and put his arm round her "Are you not happy about the baby?"

"Nay….aye…I do not know. Oh Lucan, what if he _does_ stop loving me? What if he decides that a son is the one he wants to teach to be a scout and a warrior?"

"He will not – why would he? Did he not save you from those Celts? Did he not save your mother? You did 'the tie that binds' - your souls are as tied as if he were your blood. He loves you so much – as much as my father loves me - I know he would not desert you."

Bethan leaned against him and sighed "you make my heart happy Lucan, you really do." She took his head and leaned her forehead against his "as my soul kisses yours never doubt how much I love you."

They settled into an easy silence – his arm draped around her shoulders, she leaning against him; Lucan knew her fears were still there "_I_ will always be here for you Bethan".

"And I you…"

Dagonet, watching from across the compound felt a certain sense of peace, that at least his son's love was returned.

Merlin, watching also, approached the children "Your young friend speaks true words Bethan. What concerns you most about your father, mayhap I can ease your worries?"

Bethan liked Merlin, he spoke wisely and never made her flustered. Her mother said he was a Woad Shaman, able to do strange things "I worry if I have a brother he will wish to teach him to be a scout and warrior instead of me; that he will not love me as much any more."

"I see….well, now those are great concerns indeed – we needs must address them. So - close your eyes, take a deep breath and look deep down into your heart. Go over all the memories you have of your father, all the feelings from when you first met him; then think about whether he has ever said aught at all to you that would make you doubt his word. Has he?"

After a moment's pause "nay."

"Then you have your answer; whatever words he spoke to you before are true. You can trust him Bethan."

"I do…"

"Then look forward to having your sibling, in your family. Mayhap _you _could be the teacher?"

She got up and, freeing herself from Lucan, touched the old man's arm "Thank you." she whispered.

"All is well, little scout – for _your_ family all is well." He looked across at Dagonet "but not for all others."

The children ran off to play - only to see Lancelot and Amila arguing again….

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A little later in Lancelot's bedroom, the door was closed and they sat on the bed "So let me understand you - you thought you were in love with Guinevere, but you would not act on it not only because you would not betray your friend and brother; but because of the dire consequences Sandrina told you about, though not in detail. Is that correct?"

"Aye, it is; though I believe my feelings for Guinevere will eventually resolve themselves".

"How so?"

"I find I am attracted to another - I cannot see the point anymore in pining over someone I cannot have, when there is someone who is free to chose me if they wish…."

"I see…"

"So what of _your_ lost love?" he quickly changed the subject.

"Almar was my love, my betrothed. We loved each other very much; then he fought you knights and he died."

"He fought us; when?"

"A year ago; it was a skirmish in the woods, a little south of the wall."

"I see; do you hate us…me?"

"I did, but I do not now – I see you as the honourable men you are. You were merely following what you had to do, as we all do. But I missed him for the longest time – that is why I say I understand. But I cannot completely…"

"Nay, why not?"

"Because Almar is dead he will always be evergreen to me; a true love. But Guinevere is a ghost that haunts you, constantly reminding you of all that could have been yours. I admire your strength and sense of honour that stops you from acting on your feelings."

"Feelings that are waning - I am sure of it." He smiled sadly.

"Eventually even the most devoted hearts give up on a love they cannot ever obtain."

"You speak true."

She got up and kissed his cheek "one friend to another…." She smiled, their eyes met and locked…

He dipped his head to kiss her lips gently – a feeling unlike any other he had ever known spread through him. He lifted his head slightly, stunned - and saw she had the same look.

He bent his head again, this time kissing her more forcefully; she allowed him to gently deepen the kiss, her hands creeping into his curly hair running her fingers through it; before letting them caress his face.

She felt him almost growl at the back of his throat - his hands running up and down her back. She could feel him keeping rigid control, trying not to let the situation spiral away from them.

She realised she did not care; she _wanted_ this, she _wanted_ him; she pulled away slightly "It is alright…."

She saw the passion flaring in his eyes…..and something else. Worry, concern, guilt; but was it for her or another?

"Do you think of her, is that the reason for your concern and guilt?" She spoke softly, but she knew as soon as the words left her mouth she should not have said them.

He almost flung her away from him "WHAT! How can you ask that? Now, now when I want to show you my heart; how can you ask something like _that_!" he moved to the door and went to leave.

She dodged in front of him and blocked it "I am sorry if I hurt you – that was not my intent. I know how hard it is for the heart to let loose one and to love another; but I only wish to know if you kiss me because you care, or because you are trying to forget _her_!" Her voice rose at the end.

"I have plenty of 'friends' in the tavern who would allow me _that_ favour!" he spat at her. Then seeing the hurt in her eyes, he softened "You are _different_…"

He swung away from her, raking a hand frustratedly through his hair "you drive me insane! I do not know whether to throttle you or kiss you most of the time! I find you stunningly beautiful, even with this" he indicated the ugly scar on her arm, without turning round "maybe even _because_ of it; you tried to save me - me, who you hardly knew at the time! You have a smile that would light the Heavens, and a temper that would bedevil Hades!

Sometimes I want to throw you over the gallery because you argue so _bloody_ much; and others I want to hug you to death because you can be so damn sweet! You can make me laugh out loud, and make me so angry that I want to punch a wall. You have fought me _every step_ of the way these past weeks; challenged me, argued with me…." He began to calm "and yet….and yet I have been strangely drawn to you.

San said I would be as I did 'the tie that binds'. But it is more than that; I care for you Amila, though you drive me to the point of madness – I care….

I thought I would never care for another, that Guinevere would be my curse for all time; then you came, and now…now I find that every day she fades from my heart a little more - and you, you take her place…."

While he had been speaking she had walked to him; she put her hand on his arm "and I feel exactly the same - you drive me mad too. You are so stubborn and arrogant, but you have a softer side as well – not everyone sees that. You play a part out there…" she indicated the door "but like San, I see the real you. In here" she touched his chest "beats the heart of a noble and honourable man."

He looked at her "A man I care deeply about; I never thought…I…" but she never finished; his mouth came down on hers, stopping all further talk.

Her hands were in his hair, his arms tight about her "I care…I do care" he muttered against her lips.

"And I want this Lancelot; let me be with you." His hands were on her, running around her body – making her gasp.

He laid her gently on the bed "Let me love you?"

"Would I do anything else?" She smiled at him.

"You might bite me?"

"I might…." She raised an eyebrow, causing him to laugh shakily "Then again, I might not…"

And so they both took a step forward, away from old loves and towards new ones……

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Outside the room Odell and Merlin heard the exchange "he is brave to take her on." Odell smiled.

"They need each other; they are as bound as Tristan and Sandrina. Their life will be a little more…fiery than most, is all." The shaman smiled.

"I plan to speak to Sandrina".

"Why? You will not take her from the Scout, particularly now she is with child…..._his_ child. Do not torture yourself, as so many do, for a love that cannot be yours" he watched Dagonet playing with the children; his laugh ringing out around the compound, a rare occurrence these days.

"I only wish her to be with the Woads, to embrace her heritage - her _birthright_."

"She has done so; the scout is more at one with nature than you think. She is happy in this life, leave her to it."

"She has great power Merlin, I have felt it and so must you. You know the potential she carries - you have seen the darker manifestations of it, as well the light. She should be with her people…."

"And you!" the shaman rounded angrily on his lieutenant "Do not meddle with the path of Destiny, Odell. She does not take kindly to those who would thwart her plans; things are as they should be."

"She is not with _her_ people; _this_ is a half life to her - if she only but knew it!" Odell's anger was rising.

"By whose reckoning? She has embraced her abilities – as has the child. Why do you think they call her 'little scout'? She sees all and hears all, nothing is missed; she has the man she calls father to thank for that; the abilities are from her mother, but he is the one teaching her to use them!"

"Until he gets his own child!"

"He will not forsake her; she _is _his own child, she is his in every way that counts – and he knows it, and loves her for it. His friend said he is a man who only gives his heart once and forever, like the boy, and he was right; and it is to the child and her mother he has given it to. Aught else to him is naught but a bonus."

"But ….with us….who knows what they could accomplish?"

"What they could accomplish? They have accomplished so much _her_e; brought the three knights back, fought and battled their way to ensure destiny's path is followed, the gathering dark is forced back, brought light, laughter and joy to the hearts of men who were becoming black with hate and bloodlust. Is that not an accomplishment? What _more_ would you have them do!"

"But it is no life for a Woad!"

"But she is half Sarmatian; and what of Guinevere and your own sister, Odell? True Woads; Britons born and bred - why do you not want to carry them back to the tribe? I will tell you, because they do not own your heart as she does; and _that_ will be your downfall.

Leave this woman be, let your heart find another; if you do not, then I fear for you - Destiny will not forgive you."

"Do not fear for me; I have my own path to follow!" And he strode off.

Merlin watched him go "So be it - the die is caste once more" he sighed as he too walked away.

0-0-0-0

And so the wheels of Destiny move forward again. Warmth for one knight with a broken heart, a Woad intent on self destruction, another knight with saddened eyes…..what will become of them?


	22. Meetings

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)__ Ilara is a 13th C. name, but one that I thought fitted the story well._**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Twenty-Two – Meetings_**

The following morning, Odell watched Tristan leave to go on a scouting mission for Arthur. He decided he would speak to Sandrina immediately, before he returned.

"Good Morrow Odell!" She smiled as she opened the door to him.

"Good Morrow Sandrina; I wondered if I could speak with you."

Her face clouded "Is it Amila? Are you not happy she is with Lancelot? My brother is a good man, and I am sure she will be happy with him."

"Nay, it is not that - how did you know she was with Lancelot?"

She raised her eyes toward the ceiling, with a wry smile "Their room is above ours. They were moving an awful lot of furniture yesterday and last night."

He laughed out loud "That phrase will never be forgotten by knight or Woad!"

"Well, I can guarantee the others will not let us forget it, even though it was Lancelot that thought it up; I may as well get my worth out of it!

But if not them, what do you wish to speak of?"

He sighed "I wish you to come and live with the Woads..."

"What!"

"They are your people; you would flourish with them, your abilities would thrive…you…"

"Why would I want to? My life is here, Odell; I am carrying Tristan's child. My brother Lancelot is here, my best friend Dagonet is here, all the knights are my family and I would lay down my life for them; Good God, my child and my lover are here – I can never leave.

Why would I wish to live with people I barely know? Your tribe is not even mine; mine are _dead_, because I am Sarmatian! My mother may have been a Woad, but I was raised Sarmatian."

"You could bring Bethan with you, she is full as much Woad as you; she has abilities all her own. You belong to _us_…to me."

Sandrina stood in shock; but she could not be swayed from what she knew to be true "I am touched you think so highly of me, but it changes nothing. I would not leave Tristan desolate like that, I could not; he is the air that I breathe, every beat of my heart. He is Bethan's father in every way that counts.

If you want me to leave him you may as well cut me down where I sit, for that is the only way I will ever be separated from him. There is no where in the world I would rather be than by his side; if I were separated from him I would _perish_, simply wither and die."

"I am very glad to hear it…" Tristan stood at the door "leave now Odell, I think Sandrina has made her feelings plain enough…" his icy voice held a warning.

"She is of us, scout; you cannot avoid the inevitable!" Odell was becoming angry.

Tristan had him up against the wall with a knife at his throat in an instant "I asked you to leave." He said calmly.

Sandrina rested a hand on Tristan's arm "Just leave Odell." She caressed the scout's face, paying no heed to the Woad before her "You know I would not leave you Tris…."

He swung his eyes to meet hers, a smile ghosting his lips, dropping his arm. "Aye."

Odell stalked out – stopping only to glare at Merlin, who was now stood at the door, as he left "It seems you were right, Destiny will not be swayed." he murmured to Merlin.

"Nay, and you have made an enemy of her for trying".

"So be it; it was worth the attempt."

Merlin entered the room "I am sorry you were subjected to that; I thought he would have better sense than to declare himself".

"Did you know of his feelings?" asked Tristan.

"Aye, but counselled him against speaking of them as I knew full well Sandrina's devotion to you."

Tristan glanced at her "Always good to know" he smiled.

"Thank you Merlin; I will fare well now."

"I do _not _want him around her any more; I do not want her upset - or Bethan for that matter."

"I understand, I will talk to Amila; he is her brother and she will take him to task. She is quite formidable…"

"We had noticed…"

"I will leave you…"

"Merlin is there aught we can do for Dagonet; he is so sad these days. I am worried for him." It had been worrying her for a while now, and she hope her friend would help her.

Merlin thought for a moment of the best way to broach the subject without giving the man's secret away, "He is lonely Sandrina, he is very lonely."

"I see; I will think on it."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

After Merlin left, Tristan pulled her into his arms "so he could kill you before you would leave me?"

"Aye; and even then my spirit would haunt you!" she laughed, before he smothered her in a kiss.

"So long as you never left me; where's Bethan?"

"Where do you think?" she smiled "with Lucan in the stables, talking to the horses. She thinks she can teach him to interact with animals as she does."

He kissed her neck "All he wants is to be with her. I sympathise, I feel the same about you."

She kissed him passionately, "so you missed me too, then?"

"Yes, and you" he dipped and kissed her stomach "I missed all four of you…"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Later that evening they were all in the tavern; Sandrina was working extra shifts there for a while, as they were short handed since Lynette had finally left to marry Thurston and another barmaid was sick.

Tristan had not been happy, but she pointed out that she would be helping Vanora and could spend more time with him.

He spent the evening with Bethan on his lap and his eyes on Sandrina. She would laugh at them frequently; with their matching hairstyles, intense stares and blank faces.

Eventually Bethan asked her "why do you keep laughing at us?"

"Because you look so alike!" she ran a gentle hand along both their cheeks. They smiled together, which made her laugh all the more. "Oh Bethan you are your father's daughter!"

As she went to walk away she collided with the new young woman coming the other way.

"Apologies lady – my apologies." she whispered her head dipped.

"It was my fault Ilara, do not fret so; and call me San not lady, all else do." San smiled. "Now come meet my fellow knights; they will look after you."

She pulled her over to the others "Knights! Meet Ilara – she is a Briton and new here; she can only whisper so play nice." All the knights roared hellos; and a thought occurred to San, as she saw Dagonet nursing his drink at the end of the table with Tristan and Lancelot, who had Amila sat next to him – holding her hand under the table.

She shook her head at her brother - she would have to have words with him, ridiculous man - and gestured to Dagonet "Dagonet, can you keep an eye on Ilara for me? I am worried she will not be able to cope with this lot." she indicated the rowdy tavern "and I trust you."

"Of course, have I ever let my friend down?"

"Never." She turned to the woman hovering by her "Ilara? This is Dagonet, he is my best friend in the whole world and I love him dearly – he is as important to me as Tristan and Lancelot." she pointed to the two other knights. "He is a good man, and will look after you." She saw the girl sigh with relief.

"Thank you Dagonet, thank you." She touched his arm.

He smiled down at her and for once the smile reached his eyes.

He kept an eye on her all night; if any got too friendly, he would go over and put a stop to it. If she was having trouble being heard, he would speak for her. She constantly gave him grateful looks and kept muttering her thanks.

At the end of the evening, as Tristan had taken Bethan and Sandrina home – the little girl asleep in his arms, Sandrina holding his arm – Lancelot and Amila left kissing and laughing, muttering about furniture moving to Tristan, who just rolled his eyes, and Galahad and Gawain had staggered off to…..well, he did not see them go but knew they had; he offered to walk her back to her lodgings.

"I do not have any" she smiled uncertainly "I was more worried about getting work so I could earn money to eat."

"I see, there will be nowhere open now – maybe you could come back to our home."

"Our?"

"Aye, mine and Lucan's" he indicated the little boy asleep on one of the wooden benches.

"Who is he?" she asked as her face lit up.

"He is my son…well, sort of.." Dagonet told her the story of how they came to be together, even down to how he came to be here.

She told him what happened to her and her village "The Romans came, ransacked the village and left. I was left for dead….but I was not. A Woad woman found me and tended me back to health, I was lucky to be alive; though it does not feel that way sometimes."

"Your family?"

"All dead; my husband, my young son, he would have been 4 now had he lived, everyone I ever held dear was slaughtered. Sometimes I wish I had joined them."

"You do not mean that; San used to think like that. Now she has her daughter, Tristan, another baby on the way and all of us. Lancelot and I adore her…" he sighed "But Tristan is the love of her life."

"You are sad about that? I do not talk much so I get to watch - I saw you glancing at her, you looked so sad." she smiled slowly.

"Aye, I loved her; but it will never be spoken of, she is devoted to Tristan - so I have buried my feelings, they are not returned so what is the point? She is my dearest friend next to Bors…"

"The bald man with the loud laugh?"

Dagonet grinned "Aye that is him; he is more like my brother, Truth be told." He made a sudden decision "Look, if you want work I could pay you to look after Lucan for me; I do not think it is right for the boy to be here every night.

I know he likes to come because of Bethan, but I also know Tristan is not too happy about her being here all the time either. Mayhap you could look after both, and we could pay you. Or they could pay you and I could give you board and lodgings. How does that sound?"

He reached over and gently pushed her hair behind her ear "you are too nice and too shy to work here; and you do not seem to like it anymore than San does – she is as tough as old boots too."

"Why does she do it then, if she dislikes it so?"

"To be near Tristan, they hate being apart; if she works elsewhere or chooses not to come in, he rarely stays overlong. She rode into battle to save us, you know. Took a blow that was meant for him, it nearly killed her."

"Is she really a knight?"

"Aye after a particular battle Lancelot, who is like her brother suggested - in fact they call each other brother and sister, and certainly fight like siblings. Arthur agreed."

"Who is Amila; the girl sitting with him?"

"She is Lancelot's lover. They are growing very close very quickly, a little like Tristan and San did; though with a lot of fire! But I think they will stay the course – I believe Lancelot loves her, though is wary of saying."

He laughed and then told her the story about 'moving the furniture', making Ilara blush.

Particularly as Bethan and Lucan had both said irritably "What is it with adults and their need to rearrange their rooms all the time! That is another two of you at it; who else? It's like a disease!"

"Van and I are always moving furniture in our home, that is why I have 11 bastards and one more on the way!" Bors had said and roared with laughter, until Vanora slapped him.

"They are not bastards; we are wed, remember?"

"Every time you strike me wench, _every_ time!"

Her laughter that joined his sounded harsh, but it was genuine and he felt a newness stir in him; he liked her a lot - felt like he wanted to protect her, wanted to help her.

"I have salves that might help your throat, and Merlin might have medicines that could help your voice. Would like us to take a look on the morrow?"

Her eyes lit up "Would you? Really?" she whispered, excitedly, making eye contact for the first time that night "It would be lovely to talk in anything other than a whisper!"

Dagonet smiled and held out his arm "Shall we go, my lady?"

She beamed at him…

Lucan, lying on the bench watching, quickly closed his eyes – he smiled, he would definitely have something to tell his Bethan tomorrow! Father had found a woman, and she seemed really nice!

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Merlin, passing the tavern earlier and again now, saw what San had done. "_She never ceases to amaze even an old dog such as I._" he thought with a rueful smile.

0-0-0-0-0-0

And so the wheels of Destiny move once more. Love grows for the desolate dark knight, the Woad has set his fate in motion, and the sad knight finally smiles….


	23. Battles

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)__ There is a genuine Celtic practice of meditation (called anal-duccaid; "breath prayer") it is a poetic way of resourcing personal power and discovering peace; a harmony between body, soul and earth. The internal landscape used by the mystics is called "the Cromlech of Meath" in which the Celtic mystic may meditate. _**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Twenty-Three – Battles_**

The following morning Dagonet went in search of Merlin. He explained about Ilara, and the shaman agreed to help. "You like her?"

"Aye, aye I do; she has a sweet nature for someone who has been through so much Merlin – she reminds me of….." he stopped himself.

"Sandrina?"

"Aye, I suppose so; but quieter – and not just because of her voice. She just seems more….gentle."

"She is not a warrior as Sandrina is…."

"Nay, nay she is not; will you come now?" he did not want to talk about Sandrina to this man, who seemed to see right into his mind.

"Take me to her…"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

After inspecting the salves Dagonet had, he agreed they would be best for the scar. However he had drinks that would help her voice, but not bring it back to what it was before.

"You will lose the whisper child, but your voice will still be quiet".

"I will have a voice even so?"

"Aye."

"I will be content with that, it is more than I have; thank you Merlin, you are most kind." she bobbed her head as he turned to leave.

Dagonet put a hand on her chin, and lifted her head up "do not look always at the floor Ilara. You have nothing to be ashamed of; and you have the sweetest face I have ever seen. Stand tall and be proud…."

"Aye, you have very pretty eyes" agreed Lucan "Bethan says they are the window to the soul; and yours must be violet, because your eyes are."

He sighed "Bethan is sad at the moment; San is having Tristan's baby, and Bethan is worried Tristan will not love her anymore. He is her father like Dagonet is mine; we are not blood, but we should be. I told her all would well and so did Merlin, as well as her mother and father, but she is still unsure.

I give her lots of hugs and keep telling her she will always have me."

Ilara hugged him on impulse "you love her very much, do you not?"

And surprisingly, he hugged her back "Aye, very much."

As Merlin left, Bethan came racing into the room "Lucan…guess what Lancelot did! He….Oh, hello – you must be the lady Mama made friends with last night." huge blue eyes regarded her "Is Dagonet courting you? I hope so because he is so sad these days, and that makes me and Lucan sad because we love Dag, do we Lucan not? All the children do, truth be told." Lucan nodded enthusiastically.

She looked conspiratorially at Ilara and whispered "he is very good with children; which apparently is good husband material, is not that right Lucan? That is what Lynette said about Thurston."

Dagonet blushed bright red "I am not courting her!" then seeing the shocked look in Ilara's eyes "Not that I would not – but I do not want the other knights to get the wrong idea, if they thought we were courting we would never hear the end of it." He smiled.

She ruffled Bethan's hair "Well, it is nice to meet you Bethan – I am Ilara. So what has Lancelot been doing? Is he the one who has the black curly hair?"

"Aye, he is. Well, he and Amila must have had another mess around fight, not a real one, at least I do not think it was - anyway, he is dangling her over the gallery by her legs and she is screaming blue bloody murder what she is going to do to him, but she is laughing too!"

All four rushed outside to watch, as they went Dagonet reached out a hand to Ilara and lifted her chin again "head up, be proud – you _are _beautiful. No one is better than you; you are as good as all others..."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Amila woke in Lancelot's arms as she did yesterday morning. She beat him awake today and was able to watch him sleep.

She stroked his face with her fingers; he always looked so content when he was asleep. Though the haunted look had finally been leaving his eyes in just this past day; she noticed it most last night and believed what he said to her as they had made love - or as all the knights had taken to call it 'move the furniture around'; she smiled..

He had told her he loved her – she had believed him of course; in the heat of passion many things can be said, but not truly meant. But he had said it again afterwards, she told him it was too soon – they had only known each other for a few weeks, but he was insistent. She had smiled and held him, wanting him to know she cared for him too. But still she had not believed him.

His eyes opened; and sleepy brown ones met wide awake hazel ones, before he growled "come here" and, pulling a possessive arm around her waist, hauled her closer still to him.

"Go back to sleep, Alima, tis only dawn…."

"I do not wish to…"

"Well, as it is only daybreak enlighten me as to what you _do_ wish to do?"

She ran her fingers down his bare side, making him shudder "you are insatiable woman!" he grinned into his pillow.

A quick movement and suddenly he was over her – his eyes passionate and holding a warmth of feeling in them that made her hold her breath. Then his lips crashed down onto hers; she was going to be playful, she was going to mess around – but now all she could think about was how this man, who infuriated her so much, filled her heart with joy too. Her hands wound their way into his hair…….

He lifted his head "I never understood Tristan and San until now" before kissing her again.

As he his hands travelled over her body, all she could think was _'does he mean it?'_ She knew what he was talking about, Tristan and Sandrina were completely and utterly devoted to each other - was he implying the same of them?

She tickled him to make him release her "what the…!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, the great Sir Lancelot brought down by a tickle from a maiden - mayhap we should arm the Celts with feathers!"

"Why you little…" they began to tickle and shove each other, he was laughing and so was she and she felt suddenly at peace. As if this is how it should be for them….

"OWW! That was my knee!" she grimaced.

"Sorry, sorry!"

"You are not bloody sorry at all!"

"Who says?"

"Me …." She wriggled out from under him and darted for her clothes.

"I know what you are doing – you are trying to avoid loving me; we have had three weeks in all to fall in love and I think we have." he lunged and she dodged him again, grappling to get her breeches on.

"Nay my lady; you have no cause to leave and so must stay!" he grabbed her legs; and she only just managed to grab his shirt and pull it over her head as he pulled her outside, himself only wearing his breeches which he had somehow managed to drag on in the scuffle, and dangled her over the gallery…

"Tell all about here I love you!"

"Nay…._Lancelot_!" She was screaming and laughing, completely exhilarated, trying to stop his shirt from falling over her head "I will gut you like a fish! I will…I will….think of _something_ unspeakable to do to you, I swear it!" she screamed with laughter again.

"Tell them I love you and you believe me!" she glanced up and, despite the laughter, she could see a serious light in his eyes.

The laughter died in her throat "you _do_ love me, do you not? How can you, so soon?"

"Because, you are the most lovable, infuriating and impossible woman I have ever met in my life! But if you were not with me now, I know how empty it would be. Three weeks of living in Hades, is not really _that _soon - trust me!"

"HE LOVES ME!" She cried out "I think he loves _me_…" she said more quietly; her eyes full of tears he hauled her back over the banister and gathering her into his arms went back to his room, kicking the door shut behind him.

The crowd of knights and others that had gathered below let out cheers and hollers; the door briefly opened as Lancelot took a bow with a wicked grin and was hauled back inside by a female arm, then it slammed shut again.

Amidst all the mayhem, Odell stared for a long time at Sandrina "watch him" Tristan said to the other knights present, indicating the Woad "I do not trust him."

"Well, that is it for a while now for them" sighed Bethan to no one in particular "did you see the looks on their faces? That is like the look my mother and father get – they will be shifting their furniture for hours now."

All heard her, though she never understood the sudden laughter that reverberated round the compound - Lancelot and Amila, wrapped in each others arms in his room, were oblivious.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Dagonet escorted Ilara back to the room he shared with Lucan. He had slept on the floor the night before, and Ilara felt very badly that he had, whilst she had shared the only bed with the boy.

"Dagonet, I am so grateful to you for taking me in, but it seems wrong that you should take the floor in your own home whilst I sleep in the bed. When I agreed to stay with you I thought you had more room to accommodate me, I am so sorry."

"I cannot see any other way.." he smiled, his green eyes resting softly on her.

"Well, I could now find my own lodgings…I…I would still be able to sit with Lucan, but retire at night to my own room."

"Would you be happy with that?"

"I….um….well…"

"I wouldn't…" Lucan piped up, pouting and taking Ilara's hand "I like you Ilara, I like you living with us. I wouldn't like it if you left".

"I would not be far Lucan, and it would only be at night - but it is so nice that you care…." She knelt and hugged the little boy.

"I still want you to stay – what say you father? Persuade her to stay with us…"

"Lucan, it is Ilara's choice…"

"What…what would you do if I _did_ stay? Is there a way round the sleeping situation? That is my only concern Dagonet, I would not leave you otherwise; you have been too kind to me…"

"Nonsense, I have been only a friend… but I could bring a cot in from the old Roman soldiers stores, would that help?"

"Oh yes, that would work wouldn't it? Yes, yes!" she clapped her hands, her face lighting up…..Dagonet laughed.

"It is good to see you so happy Ilara, over such a simple thing."

"And you father, that is the first time I've heard you laugh in a long time – unless it is with the children".

Both Dagonet and Ilara blushed…

"Would like to walk for a while Ilara? It is such a nice day…I have some time before I need to be on duty.."

"Yes, yes that would be nice – thank you Dagonet."

He held out his arm, and she shyly took it – with Lucan running ahead, this was how they made their way around the fort and back to their room. True to his word, Dagonet slept on a cot that night.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A few days later, Sandrina saw Ilara and was surprised to hear her voice slightly improved, her whisper had now become a low voice and she seemed delighted.

"I am very happy – Merlin and Dagonet have been helping me with it…it will never be a normal voice, but I am content. Though the salves and drinks are revolting!"

Sandrina laughed out loud "I well remember the ones that Merlin used on me a year ago; sometimes I thought the cough, as bad as it was, was preferable to the drinks and salves I was given!" The two women laughed together.

"How is Dagonet? I have not seen him for a few days.."

"He is well….we…..we have become good friends. He is a good, kind man Sandrina. I cannot think how some would reject him…" she stopped herself from saying more, but too late, her new friend frowned.

"Reject him? Who would reject him?"

"I….I have said too much….it is not like he had indicated anyone in particular to me." Ilara lied, cursing herself.

"I will speak with him….I cannot believe _any_ woman he has declared himself to would refuse him! Dagonet is a wonderful man and an honourable friend…"

"He has _not_ declared himself…please Sandrina….please I beg you, do not speak of it to him. He is a proud man and only spoke to me in confidence as I confided in him about my own loss…." She sounded desperate.

"I will not mention it Ilara, if you do not wish it…but Dag is very dear to me, and I would defend him to the death…" Sandrina frowned.

Ilara looked at the other woman and realised she had no idea _she_ was the object of Dagonet's affection. "Do…do you think he could ever think fondly of another?"

"Dag? He should – God knows he deserves to be happy Ilara. He is my best friend and I want him to be as happy as Tristan and I…" she sighed "he has been so sad lately and I worry for him. I would dearly love him to be with someone who makes him happy."

Ilara felt sorry for Dagonet, she realised that he loved someone who was completely oblivious to his feelings. She could not blame Sandrina for it; she was so wrapped up in her feelings for Tristan, that she was unaware of Dagonet's – but that didn't mean she had to like the way the situation had made Dagonet so despondent.

She liked San, but didn't like the heartache she had put Dagonet through. But still, the other woman had introduced them...……without her, they may never have met.

"I will speak with him and try to cheer him then Sandrina."

San hugged her "Call me San, all the others do; and thank you Ilara, thank you. I'm sure you will be a great comfort for him…..I only hope I never find out who this woman is…."

Ilara smiled as she thought that San saw her every time she looked in a mirror.

They walked on laughing about nothing, and talking mostly about Dagonet. The more she heard of the gentle knight, the more she liked him. She realised what a decent and honourable man he was; she had met precious few of them in her life, the only other was her husband.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Lancelot and Amila were cuddled together in bed, his arm draped over her side, holding her against him possessively - even in his sleep. Dawn slowly crept into the room and the light shining in Lancelot's eyes woke him; he moved slowly so as not wake the woman sharing his bed.

He raised himself up on one elbow; watching her sleep, he wondered at the turn his life had taken. Before she came he had had a boring existence, only punctuated with the pain and longing brought on by his feelings for Guinevere.

But now, now he felt like she had freed him. She really did drive him to distraction – both with frustration and ….love. He could say it now, even to himself. He did love her, he knew that San thought it was too soon, he knew even Amila thought it was too soon.

But the fact they had been together almost constantly for a month now was made it possible to him; it had only been a fraction longer for San and Tristan after all.

Her long lashes fanned her cheeks as she slept, her hair spread across the pillow. His heart filled with emotion just looking at her. His hand traced her cheek, so lightly. He smiled, she looked so angelic and yet he knew as soon as her eyes opened mayhem for him would reign; he never knew what she was going to do next – yet that was what he loved the most about her.

All he really knew for certain was that she cared deeply for him; even though she had not told him she loved him, he did not feel too hurt - he knew she was concerned that he had not resolved his feelings for Guinevere. But he felt that side of him waning; his thoughts and feelings for _her_, each day they lessened.

He knew San adored Amila for that fact alone, but also because she knew she would fight him at every turn and not be bowed by his charm or humour.

He stroked her cheek, before leaning down to her ear "never leave me; all I ask, is you never leave me…." he whispered; letting his lips trace a butterfly light trail down her neck to her mouth.

"I will not…" her eyelids opened.

"Wench! How long have you been awake?" he chuckled.

"Since you touched my cheek….." She grinned at him.

"I love you…"

"So you keep saying…"

"You do not believe me?"

"I….do…..but I worry….I worry that you….." she hesitated.

"Still care for Guinevere?"

"Aye…"

He kissed her passionately, "I do, but not as I did….each day it lessens and my feelings for you strengthen Amila. I love you; but it is up to you if you believe me." His eyes clouded slightly.

She could see she had hurt him again, as she did every time she questioned his feelings for her. Well, not the feelings themselves; but the strength of them. But if he would ask her, she would speak true.

She caressed his face, she knew she cared for him; but could she tell him? She leant up and kissed him.

He tried to resist her; she felt his body tense against hers. Her tongue gently teased his lips, her hands run up and down his back before wrapping themselves in his hair as she knew he loved.

She felt his body relax, the typical growl of passion rising out of his throat as he gave in to her. "What you do to me Amila….oh, what you do to me…" he groaned into her mouth.

"Tell me…."

"You drive me mad, with frustration, passion, love; my life would be empty without you now…." His lips snaked across her skin.

Her nerves were hanging out of her flesh, his lips were creating havoc in her mind "Lancelot.." she gasped "Lancelot…. I love you as much…."

His lips stilled, "What?"

Her eyes flew open '_Oh Goddess, had she said it out loud_! She had said it in her mind to him so many times – not just when they were making love, but sometimes when he looked at her a certain way or laughed with her, even _at_ her; sometimes even when she was mad she would say 'I love you'. A hundred time since yesterday mayhap……but never out loud…_never_ out loud.

He raised his head "what did you say?"

She closed her eyes; she could feel the colour coming into her cheeks… "Naught; I said naught…"

"Aye you did; you said you loved me… Look at me Amila, _look_ at me."

She reluctantly opened her eyes; expecting to see triumph, humour – but instead saw a grin and ….hope ….and worry. "_Do_ you?"

"Aye" she sighed "aye, I do. I have fought it, I have. Every step of the way – I do not want to get hurt if you suddenly decide you want Guinevere more than I. But you won Lancelot, you beat me – this one time, you beat me. I love you – I love you with all my heart, body and soul.

You frustrate me and infuriate me – but you also make me laugh and make me feel needed, more than even my own blood could. I love you – so there, now you know…" she sighed.

She suddenly found herself being crushed to him, his lips smothering hers……she kissed him back, her heart railing against her mind; squashing the doubts - but deep down she wished she could believe he felt the same.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It was a week later that fate and destiny decided to take a hand. Issues were forced to the surface and more than one at this place was about to find their lives irrevocably changed.

Merlin started it. One morning there was a knock on her door and Sandrina found the Shaman stood there "Merlin! Enter do – how are you? I have not seen you for a few days, is all well with you?" She embraced the elder man, the only one among them to ever do so.

"I am well Sandrina – I have been away conducting 'anal-duccaid' seeing her confused look "it means 'breath prayer', it is the way we Woads meditate – we go to an out of the way place and visit 'the Cromlech of Meath', it is our own internal landscape; the way we connect with our deepest selves. I have had much to meditate on…." He seemed burdened.

"Is there aught I can do to aid you?"

"Only hear me out. I have wondered if I should tell you this, but it seems now I must – for if I do not, Odell will and it is better to come from me."

"What is it?" She was becoming concerned "Is it Tristan, or the others? Will he, Lancelot and Dagonet return to dust now? I could not bear to lose any of them!"

"Nay, nay – calm yourself; nay, that charm is safe. Only destiny controls their end of days now.

It is to do with you that I must speak. I have watched you - and you know I think you an elemental, your Briton heritage stronger than even you knew in you?"

"Aye I do, for you have spoke of it often enough over past months."

"Then sit child and listen to me. You may yet avert disaster for Odell."

"Disaster? What has he done to invite such concern from you?"

"He defied Destiny, tried to alter the path she laid down – but now quiet, and listen to me.

Your mother never spoke of whence she came, did you believe her Sarmatian?"

"Nay, I was not certain to be sure – but I was fairly definite that she was not Sarmatian. But it was never spoke of; though she was indeed different. Stronger and harder compared to the other women of our tribe; she had ways about her that were distinctive to her also."

"That was because she was a Briton, a Woad. You know this; as you say, I have said it to you so many times…." He sighed "but what you do not know is that she was not taken from just any Briton tribe; it was mine. Her father and I were brothers; your mother was my niece. Odell and Amila are the grandchildren of our sister. I alone survive now; but their offspring live on. You are descended from chiefs…."

Sandrina was struck dumb "You are my….uncle?"

"Aye…..but also your chief."

"I will not leave Tristan, I WILL not!" She leapt up from the bed she was sitting on.

"Hush, hush child - I would not expect, nor wish it. Unlike Odell I accept Destiny's plan for you. I see your life here; I see what you accomplish for her. But I think it is time you knew your blood ties. There may come a time when you will be called upon to save them."

"Do Odell and Amila know?"

"Odell knows; has done, since the battle. Amila has no knowledge – they were both brought up on stories of their older cousin and how she was taken, but nothing more. Amila has forgotten much over the years, Odell forgets nothing.

Amila needs to know as you do – I will speak to her and send her to you."

He said no more and left – leaving San in a state of shock.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

What felt like hours later, but could have been no more than a quarter of an hour, the door opened and Amila came in.

She perched on the chair opposite San. "I hear we are related?"

"Aye" San continued to stare at her hands.

"Are you angry?"

"Nay, not angry - confused. Actually, confused _and_ angry!"

"Why? Why angry? Do you not _want_ to be my blood?" Amila sounded hurt.

"Aye, I _do_; of course I do!" she patted the younger woman's arm reassuringly "but why did Odell not tell me when he declared himself, told me he wanted me to leave this place – leave Tristan, Lancelot and Dagonet; take Bethan away from the only father she has known?

It would have made naught difference to my feelings, I love Tristan and nothing will ever change that, but it would have explained much!" her voice was rising as was her temper.

"Wait - Odell did _what_!"

"He told me he had feelings for me, and wanted me to leave with him; Merlin was to speak to you about it, ask you to ensure Odell left me be."

"He did not. But Odell should not have spoken so, he knows how it is between you and Tristan; what did you tell him?"

"I told him I would never leave Tristan or my life as it is now. I am happy here; I told him that I could no more stop breathing, than I could leave."

Tears filled her eyes "I could not leave this fort Amila, I could not!

All that I hold dear in all the world is here: Tristan, my lover – father to my daughter, and father of my unborn babe; Dagonet - my dearest friend in all the world; and Lancelot….." she closed her eyes briefly before continuing.

"Lancelot – if ever there was a way to have my own brother back by my side, it is this. Sometimes I believe Hunter sent Lancelot to me, to take his place." The tears, rarely shed in any way, this time fell "one brother sending another to me.

You, Odell and Merlin are my blood, aye – but so are they!

Gawain and Galahad, Bors Arthur - all friends and brothers too; I could no more leave any of them than I could ask the sun to come down from the sky!

How could I leave them! Moreover how could I take Bethan from the only father she has known; and worse, deprive Tristan of the family and unborn child he has come to love more than his own life!

So I told him to cut me down where I sat before him; for that was the only way he could make me leave, not only Tristan, but the others too."

"You did well and right…" tears were on Amila's cheeks "I would not expect you to forsake the ones you have come to love. No more than I would leave Lancelot now. But why did he wish it so?"

"He said I could be a great Shaman, as great as Merlin!" she scoffed at the thought "Me? Nay, I would never better him – for there is no one like him, and when he passes never will be again. The world will lament the passing of two men Amila: Arthur and Merlin. How can I be as powerful as he?

But Odell thinks if I am amongst the Woads then I will be, and Bethan after me. He said I must go, I refused. But I wonder what he will do; and now Merlin says he told me this in case I need to save my blood - he says Odell has made an enemy of Destiny!" she was both upset and angry now, "why should I once again have to be the one to solve this problem? I am so tired of always being the strong one…."

Despite her anger, she knew she would have to choose her blood if it came to saving Odell; but from what or who?

"Naught, Odell will do naught" Amila interrupted her thoughts "he has rolled the die and the game is lost to him, though I will counsel him if you wish me to. But if he has made an enemy of Destiny, then I fear for him."

Sandrina sighed "I am sorry to be distressed so – it is not like me….more like it is the babe I carry, making me emotional." They hugged and laughed. But deep down both women had a deep sense of foreboding….

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It was noon when a rap sounded at the door, and Sandrina was confronted by Odell.

"I have come to embrace my blood, cousin." He said as he stepped into the room. Sandrina tensed as he approached her "Nay, do not fear me – I will cause no further harm to you."

"I do not _fear_ you Odell; so please do not flatter yourself so!" She stood defiantly. "You should have told me of our blood tie."

"I am sorry if I caused so much heartache to my own blood" he smiled "That was not my intention, I merely wanted you to come to your tribe, your family. I care for you deeply Sandrina – I had to try to make you understand.

I wanted you, I admit. But you have made it clear now that I have no place with you". He smiled grimly.

"You do, but only as part of my family, Odell. I am sorry, I belong to Tristan. But you are as much my blood as he and the others are."

"It seems I can ask for no more than that…"

"Regardless of whether you ask or not, I can _offer_ no more."

"But they are _not_ your blood; they…."

"_Are_ my blood - I cannot explain to you what they mean to me; especially Lancelot, Tristan and Dagonet. But they are _of_ me, my kindred; even Bors, Gawain, Galahad and Arthur. They are _my _tribe; would you not do the same for yours?"

"Aye, I would; your choice is made, I understand." He turned to leave, but was stopped by her hand on his arm "my choice was always made; you just did not wish to accept it. We are family, which means much to me – I will always protect you; is that not enough for you?"

"It will have to be; at least I will have you in my life…" he went to touch her cheek, stopped and left the room.

Sandrina sighed and sat on the bed, sometimes life was too difficult. That was how Tristan found her when he came back from his scouting an hour later.

She had fallen asleep on the bed, he kissed her awake, before she had a chance to say anything "Arthur wants us to come to the meeting room."

They arrived to find all assembled there. "Knights." Began Arthur "Tristan has found signs the Celts have regrouped and are coming this way.

I fear another battle is upon us. This I know is not what you wish to hear, but we must secure this isle for all Britons. I only pray we all survive this trial - we all have much to return for."

"How long do we have?" asked Lancelot.

"A few hours at most, possibly less before we need to engage them, we must ready for battle. Knights! We ride in one hour…"

As they all went to the door, Bors muttered "about bloody time, I need a good fight!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Ilara, with Lucan and Bethan in tow, greeted Dagonet "Is all well?"

"Nay; we ride to fight in one hour – Ilara…….I…."

She put a finger to his lips "You will return to me Dagonet – I cannot believe that fate and destiny brought our paths together only to separate them now."

"Return to _you_?"

"Aye, please stay safe for me….and Lucan. We would both be lost without you." she smiled.

He said no more, just hugged her and the boy tight – the promise of the future suddenly bright for him. They would have much to discuss when he returned, and he _would _return to them - _his_ family.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Amila was waiting for Lancelot "Is everything alright?"

He shook his head "Nay…we go to battle…"

"Then I will go to."

"Nay, you must stay – San will not be able to fight, she is with child; Tristan will wish her to remain. You must protect her."

"Since when did my cousin need my protection? And what Tristan wishes is not always what will happen!" she said angrily.

"_Cousins_? You are _cousins_?"

"Come, I will explain…" She drew him away from the others slightly.

Guinevere spoke to Arthur, he grinned "Knights…there is something else to say – obviously we will be two warriors down."

"Two?" From Gawain.

"Aye, Sandrina will not be able to ride with us, as she is with child – and neither will Guinevere……….for the same reason."

A shocked gasp went round the room. Guinevere smiled "it is true; I am carrying Arthur's child." Before muttering under her breath "though I cannot see why I cannot fight!"

Amila looked straight at Lancelot, expecting to see pain and/or disappointment on his face. Instead he was smiling; she breathed out the breath she had been holding. Forgetting she was mad at him she hugged him; he looked confused until realisation dawned "Idiot!" he whispered into her ear.

"Congratulations; not just to our King and Queen, or our commander and his lady, but to our friend and his wife! Let us hope you have a son - we have far too many bossy women here already!" He laughed, as Amila punched his arm, along with his fellow knights.

Arthur had been concerned as to Lancelot's reaction, as had Guinevere. They had both seen Lancelot's developing relationship with Amila. Arthur had been relieved; but to begin with Guinevere had been jealous, before realising that she had no right to feel such emotions. The man was not able to be with her, why could he not be happy with someone else?

She realised she was letting those feelings die. She would be a mother to Arthur's child, all else was naught to her now. Her husband and her child only were paramount; she wished him well. Maybe the day they could be friends would come sooner than they thought.

Someone who was not laughing however, was Sandrina…."Why can I not fight! I went through much more than a battle when I was carrying Bethan!" she was spitting mad.

"Yes, and you nearly died. I will not risk your health; it is best you stay here." said Tristan with finality.

"For who exactly!"

"For us all; including you and the baby."

"And I have no say in this! _My _body, _my_ baby and I have no say as to what I can and cannot do!"

"May be your body, but it is _our_ baby; so nay, you cannot. If you were not pregnant I would want you riding at my side….but…"

"Being pregnant means that I suddenly lose my brain and ability to fight!"

"Nay, but I do not want to lose you _and_ the baby!" he was becoming angry now.

Arthur stepped between them "Tristan stop digging…"

"What?"

"The hole you are digging for yourself; you are not helping – the more you order her, the less she is likely to obey. Sandrina, he means well - you cannot fight whilst pregnant."

Tristan went towards her, but Sandrina swept past him; her angry steps sounding out into the courtyard – her parting comment only "I _HATE_ men!"

All of a sudden, Guinevere and Alima followed her – feeling she was up to something they could help with. Knowing she would not obey the men.

"Oh, well done!" sighed Lancelot "Thank you Tristan - now they are _all_ pissed at us!"

Arthur rolled his eyes "Come knights, time to ready for battle." He would speak to Guinevere on his return, if he could not have a moment before they rode.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The three women congregated in the tavern, after congratulating Guinevere, they muttered darkly about the men. Vanora approached them and they told her of the knights' decision.

"I am a _KNIGHT_!" Sandrina cried angrily "I should ride!"

"I am a Woad warrior – why should I not fight!" Said Guinevere.

"I am not even pregnant, and I have to stay behind to protect _you_!"

"_WHAT!" _the other two chorused.

"That is what Lancelot said; how do think that makes _me_ feel!"

Vanora looked at three women and smiled "They love you and wish to protect you only. The same reason you wish to fight….you want to protect those you love. I do not fight, neither does Ilara here – but we do not fuss like children about being left behind, as you do."

The women at the table quieted, but Vanora could see them deep in discussion "They are planning some mischief" she said to Ilara, with a laugh "I pity their men folk!"

The three women finally agreed to compromise, they would watch from the battlements, and if the battle seemed to be going badly then they would ride out and fight.

"Ilara – we wonder if you could act as a shield for us?"

"Why?"

"We need to ready our things in case we are needed" and they explained their plan.

"So long as you keep Dagonet safe" she smiled "I will aid you."

All the women put a hand on the table, linking them together "Sisters?" Asked San.

"Sisters…" the other three agreed.

Another die was caste.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Two hours later it was obvious the battle was not going well for the Woads and the knights; though they may still triumph with a little help, the four women felt. They stood on the battlements able to make out the worst of the fighting.

"Do we ride?" Asked Amila; Ilara standing next to her watching out for Dagonet intently.

The wind whipped round them, Sandrina knew what the answer would be.

"We do!" agreed San and Guinevere. Guinevere turned to the others "Should we survive this battle; I doubt we will survive our men's tempers!" She laughed. Ilara laughed at the thought of Dagonet being 'her man'; but felt he _was_ now slowly becoming hers.

"We shall cross that bridge when we come to it." Amila pointed out "one battle at a time, sisters, one battle a time!"

Vanora witnessing this exchange thought '_there will be hell to pay on their return….they might well wish they had died on the battlefield!"_

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

As they reached the battlefield shouting the battle cry of the knights, they saw them look at them in horror. Lancelot, Arthur and Tristan glared at them – but were quickly engrossed in the battle once more.

The women fought hard and long. All cutting, stabbing and thrusting - quickly moving through the Celts; Sandrina found herself near Gawain.

"You are likely to be in serious trouble San!" he grunted as they passed "Tristan looks like he might kill you himself!"

"I will not let any of you die – he will have to accept it!" she shouted above the din of metal on metal, and the screams of the dying around them.

The wind carried her around the battlefield. She threw her dagger when she saw two Celts advancing on Dagonet, it struck one in the throat; Dagonet took the other. He smiled his gratitude – but shook his head in despair that they had disobeyed the others.

She grinned as she spun on a Celt pushing both her other dagger and her sword into his stomach, turning and pulling them out at right angles….he was dead before he hit the ground.

She threw her other dagger into the back of a Celt about to seize Guinevere. The other woman dipped her head in thanks.

The wind whipped around her and she ran forward cutting and hacking into the men around her.

Suddenly her heart was in her mouth; before her were two men fighting for their lives. Both surrounded, she reached for a dagger; thinking to at least remove one of the enemy, for one of them, to give them a better chance.

She realised both her daggers were gone. She whirled around screaming "KNIGHTS, _KNIGHTS!_!" But saw at once that though they would be safe, the others would not be able to aid the men in front of her.

She had a stark choice; with the wind whirling round her, she knew she could only save one - knew it deep down in her soul.

She hesitated, indecision freezing her to the spot. Still killing the enemy around her almost automatically – she looked from one to the other……

She could either save Lancelot - her brother in everything but blood or……Odell, her blood kin – her family; her link to her dead mother.

With a scream of agony, frustration and impending loss she rushed forward…….

She found herself casting an agonised look to Odell as she rushed forward - he nodded sensing her choice.

"GO TO HIM SAN! HE IS YOUR BLOOD!" Cried Lancelot….

0-0-0-0-0-0

And so the wheels of Destiny move on…. The fates of two resting in her hands….


	24. Choices

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Twenty-Four – Choices_**

The other knights saw, knowing the choice she had to make "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" Yelled Lancelot, as she cut a path to him….

"SAVING MY BROTHER - I WILL NOT LOSE ANOTHER!" She shouted back; the anguish clear on her face "I will face the consequences." she whispered.

She saw the Celts close in on Odell, he went down fighting – but she saw him fall _'Odell…..I am sorry….' _Tears coursed down her cheeks, her rage building as it had when she faced Jarlath.

After many minutes the fighting slowed, the knights and Woads began to finish the fight. The Celts began to retreat, but San followed them…..

She chopped, hacked and cut at the retreating Celts; even the injured enemy lying on the ground were finished off as she ran through them. Screaming at the Woads and Knights "RRRROOOOUUUSSS!"

The knights looked on in shock; but Woads, sensing the kill followed her through the enemy, cutting them down as they went - Guinevere and Amila joining them; their bloodlust high. Within minutes all the enemy except a few stragglers had been killed, the Woads following even those few into the trees – their dying screams echoing out of the forest.

But still she went on stabbing and beheading; her screams of rage and anguish echoing round the now silent battleground.

Lancelot and Tristan rushed to her; it took both of them to restrain her.

"Enough! Sandrina – enough!" Tristan shook her gently.

"I had to choose, I _had_ to choose!" she cried out uncontrollably.

"Was there need to slaughter them like animals, San?" Asked Arthur quietly.

"AYE! Dear GOD Arthur!" dragging herself away from the two men holding her - she spun on him, her rage flaring in her eyes. Gone was the control she had had for so long "why do they return! Because we spare their Godforsaken souls!

The only good enemy is a DEAD one! They will not return again, because there are none left too! Word will spread that we are now as brutal as they; others will think twice before constantly assaulting us!" With one great heave she buried her blade in the ground next to Odell and sank to her knees in defeat, head bowed….sobbing.

Amila, her arms aching from fighting, spotted her brother "ODELL!"

Sandrina looked at her as the girl dropped beside Odell's body "I am so sorry Amila; I had to choose…I _had_ to! I could not leave Lancelot to fall again, he is my brother. We have fought together….I…..I…"

"San it is alright…whichever choice you made it would have broke my heart – I would have lost brother or lover. None would have been acceptable. Even you could not save all. Odell faced Destiny's wrath like the warrior he was, I am proud he died well in battle – our ancestors, our family, will accept his soul beyond the veil of shadows." She hung her head and began to sob deeply.

Lancelot helped her to her feet; she threw her arms round his neck; no words were spoken as he picked her up in his arms and began to move to his horse and back toward the fort.

On the battlements Merlin's head dipped – the choice was made and Destiny had had her revenge. He wished Odell had listened to him, but fate had a way of deafening people to good counsel.

Arthur stalked towards Guinevere "I will have words with you my Lady!" his eyes flashed angrily.

"Arthur! Do you not think there has been enough rage on this battlefield this day? If you wish to rant at me, _us_; IF YOU _ALL_ WISH TO RANT AT US" she raised her voice, stopping all in their tracks – particularly Tristan and Lancelot "then at least let us bury our dead, mayhap this evening you can chastise us silly women for coming to aid you – aye, and mayhap next time we should not let our love for our men folk cloud our listening to their _orders_!"

With that she turned on her heel and stalked away from him.

Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Arthur sighed and began to move back to the fort.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It was actually after Odell's funeral that evening that tempers flared. Merlin had consigned his soul to the Goddess; Amila had felt a sorrow at letting her brother go, but accepted he would be with their ancestors and family. Her brother would want it no other way if that was what Destiny had decreed.

As they moved back to the fort, Lancelot made a comment that caused the whole situation to boil over.

His arm slung around her shoulders he said "I wished you had remained at the fort Amila – I wanted you to care for the others…"

"Oh so I could lose you also, as well as Odell!" She spun on him angrily "Have I not lost enough this day Lancelot?

If we had not come you also would have died, because San would not have been there to save you! Mark that fact Sir Knight!"

"I merely wished you safe! That was what we _all_ wanted…"

"And what of what _WE_ want? We are _warriors,_ not little ladies to sit about and look pretty! Our men are in danger, we wish to aid them!"

"Aye, we wished to aid you - why should we not!" Said Sandrina angrily stalking over with Guinevere. Lancelot found himself quickly outnumbered.

"Aye, but now you are heartbroken because you could not save Odell." Said Tristan, joining them.

"But I would not have been there to save Lancelot either - or Dagonet, or Guinevere…"

"Guinevere would not have needed saving if she had stayed at the _fort_!" Arthur strode over.

Dagonet took Ilara's hand "This is going to get nasty – best we leave them to it."

"Would you have been angry if I had joined them?"

"I do not know - did you help them? We noticed they went missing before we rode out, and you kept saying they were either indisposed or you could not find them."

"Aye I did, I said I would help them if they kept you safe; are you as angry as _their_ men?"

Dagonet thought for a moment "Nay, unlike the others I understand it. But if you were with child, as Sandrina and Guinevere are...…" he sighed "then, possibly. As for Lancelot, he loves Amila far more than she realises, and would not wish to lose her – plus he has a quick temper!"

"I see…"

They slowly made their way back to the fort – ignoring the raised voices behind them.

"Well, _I_ call it bloody irresponsible – if I ask you to do something, I expect to be obeyed!" Yelled Lancelot to Amila.

_Smack_! She punched him hard in the face "Well, you can bloody find a dog for that – because I will NEVER OBEY YOU, YOU ARROGANT _SHIT_!"

"If you feel the same, you better say Tristan!" Yelled Sandrina.

"I think it would have been better to stay at the fort and do as we say…."

"So I could lose my brother _as well_ as my cousin? Where is that _better_?" she cried sarcastically.

"You and the baby would have been safe…."

"I would have very little family _left _to share it with; but who bloody cares about that so long as you men are _obeyed_! I suggest, like Amila, that you all get some dogs if you just wish to be obeyed for the rest of your lives!"

She went to walk away, but an angry Tristan swung her round. She raised her hand to strike, but found it caught in a vice like grip "Do not act as if we merely intend to dominate…." His eyes glittered dangerously.

"Is that not what you wish to do! We are WARRIORS Tristan; we FIGHT, we want to be with our men. You worry for the babes in our bellies; you fear for them, as well as us, on the battlefield? But you think we would long survive you if we were shut up in there" she stabbed a finger at the fort "and you perished out here for the want of our aid!

"You know us not as well as you think, my lover! We are not weak willed ninnies who need protection - _we_ are _fighters_.

I made….." she stumbled on the words "I made a choice this day that would kill a weaker soul; but I made it nonetheless, and it will be with me the rest of my days. But I saved the one I love as a brother; who is, as far as I care, my blood.

What if we did not come to your aid? Lancelot – _dead_; Dagonet – _dead_! Amila, me and Ilara devastated; and for _what_? So you could come back to the fort and feel you had protected us! NAY! I am not going to spend the rest of _my_ life following _your _orders like your horse – if you feel that is what you need then maybe you need someone who is more dog than woman, a dog would accept being ordered about and kept to heel – but _not _I!"

"Why did you care so much for Odell, that you grieve so hard? I thought you barely knew him." the words were out before he could stop them; the thoughts lurking in his mind, his jealousy of the dead Woad raising its head again.

San's eyes widened with hurt and anger "you think I preferred him to _you_! If so why did I let him die? He was my _BLOOD_ Tristan! I did not have time to tell you before you _brave _knights rode into your battle – but he, Amila, Merlin and I are all related. We are…._were_ cousins, he and I, and I am great niece to Merlin - as is Amila.

But I am sorry if my grief at losing more of my blood, my family, to a bloody death causes you any distress my _love; _especially as _I_ had to choose between my brother and my kin!" Her voice dripped icy sarcasm.

She avoided his eyes, the first time in a long while; and wrenched her arm from his grip, knowing from the sudden pain it would be badly bruised later. "Come sisters; let us leave the men to their lamenting for being saddled with such harpies as we! Lord knows _we_ have _nothing_ to cry for!" all three shot looks that would kill on the spot and went down the hill to the fort.

Tristan moved to grab her again, but Bors stepped forward "They are too angry to listen, Tris - leave it now mate. They are hurting and they are mad; you will only make a bad situation worse. Continue down this path, and you will all find yourselves in the barn for the night - even you my king!" He smiled ruefully at Arthur.

"But we wanted what was best for them; Vanora does not mind…" said Lancelot.

"Vanora is not a _warrior,_ Lance. That is the difference; she is happy is my Van to have babies and love me. If I fight, she waits and prays I return.

But you three, you wanted more. You wanted fighters; well you got what you wanted. _This_ is the down side lads - trust me, it will get worse before it gets better if you go after them. They are seriously pissed off at the lot of you.

By the looks on their faces, I would not bet on you ending up in the stables anyway!" He laughed walking away to see his Vanora. He stopped and turned "But I agree with them on one thing – without them you and Dagonet would be dead, Lancelot. Think on that." And he ambled off down the hill.

"He has a point, on both counts…." offered Gawain "Though I did warn San you might kill her yourself you were so angry Tris, so she should have seen this coming!" he smiled.

"Aye, but they are upset at losing Odell" Added Galahad "no one has really thought of that have they?

That must have been an impossible task for San, to find out you were related to someone and then to choose between that real blood tie and a heart one…." He sighed "It is not a choice I would wish to make anywhere, least on the battlefield." With that the younger knights followed Bors.

"Do you think they'll all be alright?" He asked Gawain "I would hate for them to split up."

"Who?"

"Any of them."

"Nay they will not, of that I am pretty certain; though San was seriously pissed at Tris was she not? Those two have serious anger issues; talk about clash of the titans. I would not want to be in their room tonight. Let us see if Dag can have Bethan…."

They hurried to catch up with Dagonet who already had Bethan with him, Lucan and Ilara. Nods were exchanged and the little girl headed off with them.

"Do you think Mother and father are seriously angry?" she was worried; she had never seen either of them this mad at each other, ever.

"Aye, but they will calm – all couples disagree" said Ilara, softly; Her voice, as good as it would get now, was soft and slightly gravely - but in its own way beautifully hypnotic.

Dagonet nodded, "they love each other too much Bethan, stay with us this night and soon all will be well again!" he laughed.

Ilara saw he no longer flinched when speaking of San and Tristan's feelings for each other; her heart was glad. Mayhap there was hope for her yet….

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Tristan's steely gaze told the other two that he would not let this lie. "I am going after mine; what you two do about yours is down to you." he stalked away.

The other two exchanged looks, "better to get it over with than having it hang over our heads like the Sword of Damocles." Lancelot murmured "The barn will not be so bad….."

They walked slowly down the hill. Lancelot looked to the Heavens "I _hate_ women sometimes…."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Tristan turned the handle of the door and found it locked. He gritted his teeth and kicked it in. "Do you honestly think locking the door, would keep me from you!" he raged as he came in. His temper was barely in check. He strode across the room, until he was inches away from her.

"You know, at this moment I do not care Tristan. I……." his mouth crashed onto hers. She struggled to free herself "Not this time…I will not be swayed; I will not let my heart…."

"What! You will not let your heart what!" he hissed.

"Betray me - I will not let my heart betray me! It has already done that once to me today. I followed you out there because I did not want to lose the father of my children; I did not want to lose my _soul_!

I meant what I said on the hill – how long do think I would survive you? I would rather go to battle and try to protect you, than stay here and pace and sweat like Vanora. She _has_ to because she _cannot_ fight; well I do _not_ because I _can_! I would lay down my life for all of you; God knows did I not choose one of you over my own blood today?

What more do I have to do to prove I am worthy - that I can fight? Why make me a knight? For FUN! There is no other reason to do so and then say I cannot fight and then, _worse_, ask Amila to stay and protect _ME_! I told you once I would always fight with you; you said you accepted it - you said that was another reason why you loved me; you _lied!_"

"YOU ARE PREGNANT, WENCH!" Shouted Tristan, all patience gone "THAT is the ONLY reason we wished, _I_ wished, you to stay. I could not stand to lose both you and my baby! What would I say to Bethan, if aught happened to you, when I had the chance to make you stay and be safe? Your PRIDE is what drove you out this day, nothing more!"

She once again went to slap him, once again her arm was caught in a grip of iron "I am sorry you had such a choice to make, and I am glad you were there to save Dagonet and Lancelot – but I still wish you had not been. Sandrina if the truth be known, I would rather have you safe, than they alive – as much as I love them like the brothers they are to me." He let her go, raking his hands through his hair in frustration.

Grabbing a blanket, he walked to the door, suddenly calm again "we will talk in the morning; I think it is better I sleep in the stables this night."

He left her speechless…..as he strode past the broken door, he heard her sobs break out; his step hesitated, before he straightened his back and walked on.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When he got there, Lancelot and Arthur were already ahead of him. Lancelot had a black eye, and Arthur a cut lip. All sighed as they settled for the night.

Tristan regarded the other men "Well, what happened with _you_….?"

Lancelot spoke first "what, you mean _after _she threw every piece of pottery in the room at me! Well, let me see – she ranted and raved about how I was a domineering shit; she cried and lamented the loss of her brother, then she hit me in the face when I said that maybe she wished it were me there instead of him" he indicated the general direction of the hill. "The thing is – I was trying to be sympathetic, but apparently I am a 'heartless bastard' as well as a 'domineering shit' now…"

"You?" Tristan nodded at Arthur.

"She threw everything round the room- she seemed most mad that Alima had been asked by Lancelot to stay behind and protect her and San. But beyond that she said I was trying to make her something she was not - I got this" he indicated his lip "when I got hit in the face by a cup…" he sighed "I knew she had a temper, but…. You?"

Tristan recounted his story. They all sighed again. After some minutes silence Lancelot spoke "they make you a bit homesick for the Saxons, do they not?"

The other two nodded and smiled. "But we love them and wouldn't be without them would we?" murmured Arthur. Tristan and Lancelot nodded again.

"I _hate_ women…." Sighed Lancelot.

0-0-0-0-0

Destiny's path is still being followed….but what of the knights?


	25. Forgiveness

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Twenty-Five – Forgiveness_**

The following morning they awoke stiffly to find a smug Bors holding plates of food for them. "What did I tell you? Should have left it alone! Listen to an old married man next time!"

They all groaned as they stood and stretched out their cramped muscles. "Shut up Bors." muttered Tristan, before almost being knocked flying by Bethan, whilst a worried looking Lucan stood by. "Hello little scout; you are up early, it is only daybreak." At first he smiled, before he realised she was crying.

Immediately he went cold, "Your mother? Is she well?" he knew he should not have left her last night, but he felt no point in continuing a fight that neither would back down on.

"She is well father, but she is so sad. She has been crying all night by the looks of her, I went to see her first thing. Is all well between you?" he could tell she was concerned.

"She looks heart sick Tristan, I hope all will be well" added Lucan.

"Aye, it will be. I do not want food Bors…." He strode out with Bethan.

"Round two!" Grinned Bors to the others "You going to eat before you two face yours?"

"You know Bors, you are enjoying all this entirely _too_ much." said Lancelot.

0-0-0-0-0-0

"Bethan can you go back to Dagonet's for a while? I promise all will be well."

"I will look after Bethan." Said Lucan stoutly "she will be safe with me, you have my word."

Tristan looked at the boy with respect "I believe you and have always trusted Bethan in your care." He ruffled the lad's hair, as the boy puffed with pride at the rare compliment from the scout.

Squaring his shoulders Tristan walked through the broken door, now carefully stood upright in the jam.

Sandrina lay on the bed, her eyes red and puffy, and her face paler than usual – staring at the door, as if she had been doing so all night. She was hugging his pillow, he noticed with a lurch of his heart; though his face, as always, remained passive.

She closed her eyes on seeing him and rolled away, turning her back on him – though he noticed she did not relinquish his pillow. "I need no more lectures this day, Sir Knight…" her tone, while hard, sounded defeated.

He walked to the side of the bed she was facing and knelt down in front of her. Not knowing what else to do he leant his forehead to hers; tensing to grab her arm should she swing at him again.

Instead her arms snuck round his neck, he gently eased the pillow out of her arms and dragged her to him. "I would do it again…" she whispered "always, I would do naught different. I will never obey you blindly Tristan; if that is what you wish, you best not be with me. I will always do what I think is right; but I did not consider the baby this time, you were correct on that mark." She closed her eyes as his lips found hers "Mayhap pride _did_ blind me…."

"I would have you no other way San. I was angry last night; but could see no way of ending the fight, that is why I went to the stables. But you are for me, Sandrina - I would never love another." He lifted her into his arms, and then sat on the bed with her on his lap.

Lucan and Bethan peeped in, "Go to them" nudged Lucan "They look as if they could do with a hug".

"What of you?"

He kissed her forehead "I will return home; will you sleep at mine tonight or can I come here?"

"Come here - as I have a plan for Dagonet and Ilara. Are you not as fed up as I that they seem to hedge round each other?"

"Aye, I want her for my mother - but father is wary" he sighed in frustration.

"Well, let us rectify that; I am fairly sure I can get us aid."

"Who?"

"Guinevere and my mother for two; Amila, Bors and Vanora for another three - I do not mind betting I can get all the knights in on it also. Wait here - I will see to my own parents, then we can start planning" She smiled mischievously "we will have them moving furniture this night if I have aught to do with it!" She laughed, she and Lucan had been told by Gilly, Bors and Vanora's eldest, what really went on; but they still liked their term better.

She went into her parents, "I am glad we are all friends again because I need your aid…."

"Aid you to do what?" Tristan asked as he and San looked on intrigued at the excited light in her eyes.

"Well, it is like this…." she beckoned for Lucan to come in "_We _think……" she went on to outline her plan; which had San laughing out loud, but both of them agreeing to help.

A little later San smiled at Tristan "Will it work?"

"For anyone else – I would say nay, never…..but this is Bethan. She is the most determined child I have ever met. If it does fail, it will not be for the want of trying." His eyes were alight with laughter.

"I love you, even when I want to kill you, I love you" she said .

"Likewise; I missed you last night…"

"As I did you; it was a cold bed without you by me."

"The stable was colder…"

"You should have taken a thicker blanket!"

He bit the end of her nose "Wench! Come, we have our part to play…." He hauled her off the bed "Bethan will not be happy if we are late…"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Lancelot went to face Amila, prepared for another black eye. He slowly opened the door to their room, in case she had restocked with pottery in his absence.

Only to find Bethan and Lucan there…. Amila looked up – he was relieved to see the warmth in her eyes once more "We are to help Bethan and Lucan to bring Dagonet and Ilara together." She smiled.

"I see, and what is our part?" he smiled back, relieved to be off the hook – at least for now.

As Bethan explained Amila swallowed the smirk at his black eye, next time he might learn to duck faster. Her brother should have told him that she……then she realised that Odell was gone, and sadness once again clutched at her heart.

But now was not the time; she had been grieving her brother all night, and without Lancelot to hold her and soothe away her tears…..she had missed the stupid oaf.

They agreed to help Bethan; she ran off to find Bors and Vanora. They were next…

Lancelot however, was now left alone with Amila. He cleared his throat "Should I duck some more or have you worn that arm of yours out now?" A sheepish smile followed.

She rolled her eyes "Let me look at that eye."

"Why? Do you want make sure the other one matches it, when you black that too?"

"Come here, idiot man!" He went and sat next to her; up close it did not seem so funny that she had hit him that hard. "Oh, Lancelot what am I going to do with you? Why are you even back here?"

"Well, I can think of many things you can do with me, and one involves this bed – the reason I am back is because I love you."

"Why?"

"Because you have to be the most infuriating, unpredictable woman I have ever met, with a heart the size of this isle…." He smiled "I only want to be with you Amila."

His smile faded and he sighed "I know I did not put it right about looking after San; but what I had meant was if the Celts had over-run us and had got into the fort, I wanted to make sure she had help.

She would have put herself in harms way to protect the children, and I wanted to ensure she had aid. I just did not explain it like that, for that I am sorry."

"I love you too and I am sorry I punched you so hard. But if you had explained it in that way, then I would not have gone against your wishes; I probably would have explained it like that to Guinevere and San and we would have all stayed to protect the others.

Though I am glad we did ride. If we had not I would have lost you _and_ Odell – and _that_ I could not have borne." Fat tears welled in her eyes and slid slowly down her cheeks. "Look at me blubbing like a child!" she swiped at them angrily.

"Nay, not a child – you lost your brother, you have a right to grieve Amila." He kissed the salty tears away. "Just let me love you….that is all I ask…"

He leaned back against the wall, as she laid her head in his lap and he stroked her hair. She finally felt some peace. "Why are all the women I love in my life so bloody violent?" he mused out loud, gingerly feeling his eye.

Amila smiled against his leg "I love you…."

He squeezed her shoulder "Good – then this was worth it…"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When Bethan and Lucan explained their plan, Bors and Vanora thought it was wonderful. "Do you think it will work?" Bethan asked Bors. She liked him as he always spoke true; no messing around just the blunt honest truth, usually littered with curses that was true, but the truth none the less……today was no exception.

"Aye I do, little scout; you are bloody clever to think up such a scheme! Why did you not do that my little bastards eh?" he gestured to his own children.

Vanora rolled her eyes as she smacked him across the head "_Must _you keep swearing in front of them, Bors!"

"It never bothered you before we wed!"

"Well, it bloody does now!"

"If you can be here in an hour kiddies, then we will see what we can do…agreed?" the children nodded as he asked "Who else is in on it?"

"My mother and father, Lancelot and Amila…..I…." said Bethan, as he interrupted.

"Have they all made up now?" He grinned.

"Mother and father have, and I think Lancelot and Amila were about to. We have yet to see Arthur and Guinevere. Oh, and we have to rope Gawain and Galahad into it, but so long as they have a laugh they will not refuse!" She grinned.

"Right, well we will all meet here in about an hour? Now let me have some food!"

As the two children left, Bors and Vanora watched them go off hand in hand before Lucan tugged Bethan toward him so that he could let go and put his arm round her. "Aww, I doubt she will be breaking any hearts but his Bors; as soon as they are of age they will be getting wed – mark me".

"Nay, they make a fine pair too;I am pleased. Pleased as well, that those two are making sure that Dag gets over 'you know who'….."

"Hmmmm…….we will make sure it works….Get off!" shrieked Vanora as he pulled her into his lap.

"Go on gissa kiss….wanna go move furniture? You can bounce on my bed any time!" They both fell about laughing.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The children's next stop was Arthur and Guinevere. Whereas Lucan treated them with the respect that he felt was befitting a king and queen, Bethan treated them as Arthur and Guinevere.

"Arthur!" They came running into the meeting room where the round table was "Oh, hello Guinevere" Bethan glanced round "is Arthur here? We need your aid."

Guinevere smiled sadly "he is in the stable the last I heard".

"Nay, he is not….he is here" spoke a voice from the door as he entered.

She looked relieved "Your lip looks sore….."

"I am sure you could kiss it better…" he smiled his eyes twinkling, before grimacing as it pulled the cut in his lip.

She rose and crossed to him "Are you well, apart from that?" But he had to admit she did not sound sorry. Though he doubted any of them did, some how he suspected that not one of these women would back down over what had happened.

"Nay, just that and it is not too bad; or are you sizing me up for something worse!" His smile broadened and he ignored his lip, as her hands caressed his chest.

Bethan cleared her throat; they both looked at her "Umm…we need your help remember?"

The couple smiled sheepishly "How?"

"We want to get Ilara and Dagonet to admit their feelings; and before you say not to" she waved away any protests from Arthur "you both know he will not declare himself otherwise; and _we_ willbe old and grey before he does anything!"

"I was not going to say no.." he saw the shocked look on Guinevere's face "Well Bethan is right, he will _never_ do it on his own! What do we do?"

"Well…" as she was explaining he sat in rapt attention, and ended laughing out loud "You know, I think it will work!"

Guinevere watched him and her heart filled with love; he was more than a king and her husband, he was a man - flawed and prone to mistakes, mayhap but then so was she. Still whatever happened he loved her and he would make a wonderful father.

The children left to find Galahad and Gawain. Guinevere went over and knelt down before him "Never try to change me Arthur; so long as you acknowledge me for who I am, then we will be very happy."

"I know, I know - I just wanted you safe."

She teased his damaged lip with hers. "Shall we go and move the furniture?"

Laughing he swept her up into his arms "Mayhap we should disagree more often! But it will have to wait my love, for now we are needed in the tavern!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Gawain and Galahad were in the stable laughing over Lancelot's black eye and Arthur's split lip.

"The only one with no battle scars from their domestic wars was Tristan!" roared Gawain.

"Umm….we come to request your aid, everyone else is going to and you are the last two…."

"Hello little scout!" smiled Gawain, eyeing Lucan and thinking they could have some fun. "Are you still going to marry me one day?"

Lucan grimaced at him and put his arm possessively round Bethan's shoulders. Both Gawain and Galahad fought to keep a straight face.

"Nay, silly – I have Lucan; but you _are_ my best friend Gawain…." Holding Bethan tighter, Lucan stuck his tongue out at Gawain; who smothered a laugh. "So! Will you help us?"

"To do what exactly?"

"To get Dagonet and Ilara to admit their feelings!" She grinned.

"Oh aye, we both agree to that little scheme!" laughed Galahad.

"But you have not heard the plan yet…."

"It does not matter – when do you need us?"

Bethan looked at the sky "about now?"

"Come then…." Both knights said together.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When Dagonet and Ilara arrived at the tavern 20 minutes later, they were surprised to see all the knights and their families there - looking very shifty. Shouts of "Dagonet!" and "Hello Ilara!" greeted them.

"Oh Goddess, what in the name of Hades are they up to now!" Exclaimed Dagonet in exasperation.

0-0-0-0-0

And so the wheels of Destiny turn on…. Will the knights be able to help their friend, or will he be destined to spend his life alone?


	26. Schemes

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Twenty-Six– Schemes_**

"What is it?" Ilara asked, he sounded worried – which was not like Dagonet when it came to the knights.

"They are up to something, the lot of them. Watch your back – I do not know what they are scheming, but they are…." He murmured.

However, nothing happened – the afternoon wore on. The only thing was Arthur did not seem in a hurry to get chores done, every one stayed at the Tavern; laughing, joking and having fun.

Ilara's guard had long since dropped; even Dagonet, though watchful, started to think that maybe he was just being paranoid after years of practical jokes.

He looked at Arthur; he knew his commander and king would never take part in ridiculous schemes these days. He never had been one for the jokes and pranks of the other knights; but especially now he was king he had to be more serious, more the leader than ever.

The only thing he thought slightly odd was that the adults seemed to be following the lead of Bethan and Lucan. Every so often he noticed one of them would shake their head at an adult's questioning look, and so the merriment would continue. If they _were_ up to anything, he knew those two were at the centre of it; but maybe it just that he and Ilara that were not the targets.

He looked round the others in the tavern: Arthur and Guinevere, he would do all he could to serve them faithfully, as they sat chatting amicably with Merlin; Lancelot and Amila, in love and loving every minute of it sneaking kisses and laughing; Gawain and Galahad, older now but still acting like boys and fighting over who won the latest knife throwing contest; Vanora and Bors, his brother if ever he had one and his surrogate family arguing, as usual, about naught and secretly jesting through it; Tristan and Sandrina, with Bethan, completely and utterly devoted to each other and she sat with him talking about the baby and trying to include the little girl ; the baby that was lucky to be born to that family would be very happy. He knew he would have loved her deeply if given the chance, but those feelings had been waning recently.

He was glad; since Ilara had arrived he realised that he had a chance to be happy. Of course, he would never tell her in case it ruined everything. Better to have her always as a friend, than tell her his feelings and risk losing her; and of course he had his Lucan. If he had been his own blood, he could not love the boy more.

He was content with this life, had no wish to return to Sarmatia. He did not even know if he actually had any family left there now; and even if he did, _were_ they family anymore? Fifteen years was a long time; and San had proved that blood was _not_ thicker than water - she had chosen Lancelot over Odell, a heart tie over a blood one. She considered _them _her family now - the knights.

He knew he felt the same; he looked around them - men he had known since they were boys, with families of their own, blood or adopted, and their wives and partners. All happy…finally; he felt content, his life could remain like this now and he would never ask for more.

Of course he had reckoned without a blond eight year old and her devoted friend.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Bethan had other ideas for Dagonet. She adored him only slightly less than her father. The only other she loved as much was Gawain. He had always been there for her, next to her father he and Gawain were the ones she would run to if she needed help.

She wanted him to be happy, and she knew with the insight of a child that he would not help himself. He was fearful of the consequences; well, she – Bethan – feared nothing, and she would ensure that this situation with Ilara was rectified forthwith.

It was almost painful to see them hedge round each other; when she thought back to how brave Lucan was to declare his feelings for her and he not yet 10 at the time, she could not see why his father was so hesitant.

The sun was now beginning to set. She nodded at her mother, who nudged her father. He, Lancelot, Bors, Arthur, Gawain and Galahad sloped off muttering about chores and urgent matters.

The men got to the room "Do you honestly think this will work?" Muttered Gawain as they began to move things about.

Bors began to laugh like a drain "What!" Asked Lancelot, struggling with a big wooden chair "Why does the man have furniture befitting a bloody giant! What _is_ it Bors?"

"We……we are…._moving the furniture_!" he wheezed. All the knights exchanged looks and fell about laughing; even Arthur could not stop the tears rolling down his face.

"I do not think that daughter of yours will ever know the hours of mirth and...other things that one phrase has given all of us, Tristan!" He laughed.

The scout merely nodded, though a wide grin graced his usually passive face also.

"It does not work on the tavern wenches so well though -"Do you fancy coming and moving furniture with me" does not really impress them! In fact I think one even slapped Galahad when he said something like that to her!" Said Gawain, causing a fresh outbreak of laughter as the youngest knight scowled...

They returned 20 minutes later grinning like idiots at Bethan. With only Tristan having his usual passive face; though he even he smiled at her, his brown eyes twinkling.

A few moments later Bethan, her mother, Vanora, Amila and Guinevere all left saying they too had a few things to sort out around the fort, but not to leave as they would return soon.

Bethan surveyed the room "It is almost perfect – we just need the finishing touches on the floor."

They lay the wet mud, straw and sawdust all over the floor until it was filthy and sodden. Sandrina sighed and smiled at her daughter "we will have to clean this tomorrow Bethan; I hope it is worth the effort!"

"It only has a bed!" said Amila surveying the room.

"That is enough furniture for them to move around" Said Bethan with a wide innocent look.

When the women had controlled their laughter, Guinevere asked "Are you sure it will work?"

"I am as sure as I can be; now let us get the players in this little game…" grinned Bethan.

They returned to the tavern and approached Ilara, "Can you come with us for a moment Ilara?" Asked Sandrina.

"Why? Is all well?"

"Nay, there is something wrong at your room and we do not want to bother Dag." Said Bethan.

"What is it?"

The women sighed; Ilara was not making this easy for them.

"Umm, well it seems that someone has made a real mess of it…" Amila offered.

"Ah I see….let us go, it is probably the children playing a prank – would you help me?"

The other women and the little girl exchanged looks "Aye" said Guinevere, smiling "of course we will help you; we will most assuredly help you Ilara."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When they reached the room and made sure Ilara got inside, Amila stood in front of the door.

"Oh, Goddess! This is more than a childish prank - why would someone do this and where is the furniture!" Ilara was shocked.

"I do not know; it really is worse than we thought!" cried Bethan, in mock horror. "I will run and get the others!" She flew out; and the other women made sure that Ilara was kept busy commenting on the mess in the room. She was terrified where they would all sleep.

"Surely the bed is big enough for three? San and Tristan regularly have had Bethan in their bed, have you not?" Guinevere struggled to keep a straight face, at the look of terror on Ilara's.

"Aye," said San, "Particularly when I was ill; she used to sleep between us."

The gentle teasing went on like this as Bethan flew back to the Tavern.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Well?" asked Lucan as she raced into view, skidding to a halt outside and trying to look nonchalant.

She merely grinned and hugged him. He buried her head into his shoulder and kissed her hair.

Bethan released herself "Round Two Lucan; come on!"

She went into the tavern looking worried "Dagonet? Where is Dagonet?" she asked pretending not to see him. She went to Lancelot who was sat next to her father "Have you seen Dagonet, Lancelot? It is Ilara…."

Lancelot leant down "You are certainly ladling on the honey, are you not little scout?" he grinned.

"I have to be convincing, do I not?" she whispered back. Both men near her had to struggle to suppress a laugh – the large knight did not stand a chance against the scheming of their little scout!

"Ilara? What about her?" Dagonet was on his feet.

"She has had a fall, we have managed to get her back to the room…..but…." tears filled her eyes "She has hurt her leg! Oh, Dagonet….it is bleeding and I…I am frightened for her…" a single tear slid down her cheek, as wide blue eyes stared up at her victim.

All the other knights looked on amazed "I pity Lucan" Lancelot whispered to the others in awe "she will have him twisted round her little finger for eternity."

Dagonet took off; "Now" said Arthur, "we await the signal and then it is our turn."

"I hope this works" said Galahad.

"Seeing our little scout in action, I cannot see it _not _working!" Laughed Gawain.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Bethan was ahead of Dagonet and arrived at the room just in time to give the signal "NOW!" She yelled, just as Dagonet skidded into the room.

All the women flew out, slamming and locking the door behind them.

"What the?" exclaimed Dagonet.

"What is the matter Dagonet?" asked a startled Ilara.

"Your leg…" he panted "it was injured, bleeding!"

"Nay, I am quite well."

At that moment the truth dawned, with a growl he turned to the door but it was bolted. As he managed to peer out of the window he saw a laughing Lancelot and Bors bracing it with two large planks of wood.

As he went to put his elbow through the window, a huge shutter appeared and he could hear it being hammered into place.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE GODDESS ARE YOU _DOING_!" he yelled.

"You are _not _coming out until you two have done what you have to do!" cried Lancelot with glee.

"WAIT UNTIL ARTHUR HEARS ABOUT THIS, LANCELOT!"

"Actually" the other knight crowed "he is…."

"Here…" Arthur's voice was the other side of the door.

"ARTH…ARTHUR!"

"We are doing this for your own good my friend! You are in there until you and Ilara admit to yourselves and each other how you feel!"

Dagonet was not about to give up, and a horrified Ilara came to his aid. They banged, rattled and shouted for what felt like hours.

The knights stood guard outside; anytime anyone stopped, they would move them on. People being confronted with their king and his knights standing guard over a door behind which was a huge din from something trying to escape, and issuing horrible threats to the welfare of these same knights and king, they could only look on in wonder before passing by.

Eventually, Dagonet gave up and slumped on the floor, only to leap immediately to his feet "The floor is _wet_, why is the floor wet!"

Ilara looked down "It is muddy and covered with sawdust too… you cannot sit there, you will catch your death".

They looked round the room and found it completely empty of all furniture save the bed. Dagonet rubbed his hand over his eyes in frustration – what he would do to them when he escaped, and the one that dreamt this up!

He rattled the door again "WHO THOUGHT OF THIS!" he roared.

"Bethan! Bethan with help from Lucan, and they did it all in a few hours! She will make a good knight and scout some day –will she not!" Laughed Arthur.

"BETHAN? It was _Bethan's_ idea?" He could not believe that the little maid would do this, and aided by his own son!

"She wants you two together, and so does Lucan!"

Dagonet sat on the floor again, before Ilara could stop him, only to leap to his feet cursing.

"Come, sit on the bed…" Ilara grinned.

"Why are you _smiling_?"

"The fact you keep trying to sit on the floor, when you obviously cannot; and I think it is sweet that they all want to help you…" she said softly "It shows they care".

"I will not have them take advantage of you."

"I do not think it is any of _them_ they want to."

He blushed "Well, that is not going to happen…" he said gruffly.

Her face fell "I see; should I try and tell them that you do not think of me like that? That we are merely friends - if I…." she tried to keep her voice level, thought he could tell she was hurt.

In two strides Dagonet was before her "Please do not be upset Ilara. I just do not wish them to make fun of you…"

"But they are not. Can you imagine the amount of planning Bethan and Lucan put into this? How much your friends, your _king_, must think of you to spend a whole day arranging all this?"

He was silent. She sighed "I will explain; I do not want them to put you in an awkward position - I will explain we are friends only."

He hovered, in agonies of indecision, and then as she went to tap on the door he reached out and put a restraining hand on her arm.

"Do not; not yet at least. I do not think we have had any time to ourselves since you arrived; we always seem to have children around us. I would like to talk to you…" he smiled, a warm smile that lit his eyes and made them glow "about how you like….things….here…."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Outside the knights had their ears pressed to the wood shutter by the windows and the door; the only one who did not was Tristan. He stood to one side rolling his eyes at his brothers "I think he will tell us what happens, knights" he smile sardonically as Galahad shushed him.

The women stood around laughing at them.

"What!" exclaimed Lancelot "We are just trying to make sure they are doing what they have been locked in to do."

"But you will not hear them!" Sandrina rolled her eyes "When I told you I was with child, you lot did not have any idea what was going on in our room; and that was without all this extra wood!" She shared a warm glance with Tristan; she marvelled at how he still made her blood race with just a look.

He walked over "Come San, it is time we took the children home and to bed……….and for us." he added in her ear, before kissing it. They left with Lucan and Bethan complaining about missing aught.

"You will miss naught, I assure you" Tristan told them "we will know all or naught on the morrow." They settled them down; Sandrina went through the ritual of what to dream.

As they left the children's room and entered their own, Sandrina sighed "what is it?" asked Tristan concerned "Do you feel well?"

She caressed his face "I feel well enough; it is just I was thinking back to when I first came here all the children I looked after, now I am down to one and one by proxy on occasion."

He kissed her soundly "and another to come; but do you honestly expect me to believe that you want a brood like Bors and Vanora's!"

She smiled "nay, possibly not though she copes better than I ever would!"

They shut the door on the night, arms around each other…..

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Back at the room Guinevere and Amila were becoming fed up with waiting; Guinevere was tired, and Amila wanted to do more with Lancelot than stand at a lump of wood trying to hear what was being said inside a locked room.

Guinevere called Arthur "I am tired my love, I need to rest!" He walked over, kissing her soundly "and you promised me we could move some furniture this night!" she grinned suggestively.

"I leave you knights!" Arthur called "I do not think we need to guard them, but if any wish to stay and listen……" he laughed as he left.

Amila had been watching Lancelot intently as the interaction between Guinevere and Arthur took place. She was surprised to see the pained expression he usually wore at such times was absent; it had been since Arthur had announced that Guinevere was with child.

Lancelot saw her staring at him, and wandered over "What?"

"What?"

"What are you staring at?"

"I know not - there is no label attached to tell me…" she replied full of innocence.

"Wench!" he smiled; then, pulling her into his arms, murmured "kiss me….."

She kissed him passionately "I love you Lancelot – I love you so much!"

He grinned against her lips "What brought that on?"

"I can tell you, can I not?"

"I am not complaining; I am just surprised, that is all. Especially after this" he indicated his eye.

She reached up and kissed it, then trailed her lips down his jaw. With a groan, he swung her up into his arms "What you do to me, Amila – what you do to me."

He turned briefly to the others "I leave you knights; we plan to rearrange our own furniture for quite some time this night!" Bors, Galahad and Gawain roared as he left with a laughing Amila.

"You do _not_ love her any longer do you?" she asked as he kicked open the door to their room.

"I do not love who? Oh….actually, you know, I do not…" he realised she was right "Nay, I do not love her anymore. I do love you though; I love you more than my own life."

They lay on the bed….

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Bors and Vanora left shortly after to put their own brood to bed. Leaving only Galahad and Gawain outside.

"Should we go to?" asked Galahad.

"I am not moving…" Gawain sat resolutely down on the floor, folding his arms.

"Why?"

"This is Dagonet we are talking about! As soon as he thinks we are all gone he will be trying to get out. I like Dag; I want to make sure he gets Ilara before someone else does."

"Do you think anyone else would?"

"They might; she is nice and people really take to her…."

Galahad disappeared, but came back minutes later with two thick horse blankets, throwing one at his friend, he settled down on the other side of the door. Gawain raised an eyebrow.

"Well, he _is_ my brother too!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The couple inside the room were oblivious to the comings and goings outside.

They had been deep in conversation for some time; Ilara telling him all about her family and the life she had lost after the Romans had left her for dead.

Dagonet told her all about himself; how he came to have Lucan, and how he quite literally came back from the dead.

Neither noticed that as they talked they moved closer together; Dag was the first to realise that all he had to do was lean forward about an inch and he could easily kiss her.

He sat looking at her as she spoke in her quiet voice, and realised he had not heard a thing she had said for the last five minutes.

Ilara had also noticed "I am sorry, I am boring you….." she blushed "I do not talk this much as a rule."

"Neither do I" he smiled, "I think that is why I get on with Bors so well – he does all the talking for me!"

She returned it as she felt his warm breath on her face, and realised that if she just leant forward about an inch she could easily kiss him.

He was still speaking and she realised she had not heard "_I_ am boring _you_ now." he smiled.

They both leant forward and met each other halfway - their kiss was tender at first, but quickly deepened.

Dagonet drew back, "I am sorry, I should not have done that" he took a deep steadying breath "I will sleep on the floor, it must be drying out by now…"

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why sleep on the floor when there is a perfectly good bed to share. I promise I will behave myself!" she laughed lightly, that gravely sound he had come to love.

"You might, but I cannot make the same vow." he groaned as he realised something"I just said that out loud, did I not?"

She nodded with a smile. "It is nice to know I can still effect a handsome man like that."

"Me, handsome? Your eyesight must be failing!" he laughed.

"To me you are Dagonet" she said so softly, he barely heard her. "You are handsome, kind and loving. I think Sandrina was a fool not to see what she missed out on."

He blushed "that is all in the past now. She is happy, and I am happy for her."

"What of _your _happiness? Who makes _you_ happy?" she sounded bitter.

"Lucan….and you; you make me happy" the words were out before he could stop them "But do not be mad – I am happy and you cannot blame her; the heart knows its own, and the soul knows its mate.

She and Tristan are soul mates, I knew that from the very beginning – some invisible force pulled them together and they have proven that not even death can separate them. Though I would like to have a love like that as well." He sighed.

She leant forward once more and kissed him on the cheek "Maybe you have….right under your nose."

"You could have your pick of men Ilara – why would you want a battered and worn oaf like me?"

"Because I love you Dagonet – I think I did the first moment I met you. But the more I got to know you, the more I loved you. I know you do not feel the same way about me, so I am happy to just be your friend so I can be near you, and Lucan." She had her head down and her eyes on the floor.

Gently her head was raised "What have I said about looking down?" and then he kissed her. Her arms went round his neck, his round her waist – pulling her to him.

The kiss deepened slowly, but as their passions raised they quickly realised there was no turning back. Friends had now become lovers………

The bed was near the wall, and outside Gawain and Galahad woke to the thumping of it; both exchanged knowing looks "_Finally_!" said Galahad.

"About bloody time!" said Gawain; they both stood stiffly and made their way to their own rooms, confident the occupants would be making no more breaks for freedom until morning.

All they said to the queries of their fellow conspirators next day was "they managed to find an awful lot of ways of moving that bed around!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When a dishevelled Dagonet and Ilara were finally released from their 'prison' the following morning, they were greeted by huge smiles as Dagonet said "This is Ilara, my partner! I should kill each and every one of you….but in truth I want to hug you all!"

A cheer went up - it had worked! Bethan and Lucan merely grinned and hugged each other "Told you it would work, did I not?" she muttered to Gawain.

"Aye, little scout – aye, you did!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

And so the wheels of Destiny turn on. What next does she have in store for the knights; her path shortens as it now approaches its end…..


	27. New Life

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Twenty-Seven– New Life_**

"Well Bethan, let us move out." Said Tristan, as he and his daughter went on another scouting mission. There had been no trouble for the last six months, and for the last three Bethan had gone back to scouting with him. She had been relieved, convinced as she was that she would save him again if need be.

Every time they went, San's heart was in her mouth; though she never showed it. They always came back safe, and gradually her blind terror and pacing the fort lessened.

Bethan was amazing Arthur in every way; now only half a year away from nine she was showing herself to be the future warrior and scout that many had predicted. She was an accomplished rider, her swordplay was legendary among the children, she fought like a tiger, and her bow and dagger use were extremely accurate, like both her parent's. She fought with a ferocity that laid waste to even all Bors children; she was as tough as nails, never cried out in pain……and all the knights _adored _her.

But none adored her as much as one youngster only a week away from turning eleven - Lucan. All the other boys knew to stay away by now. He was growing into a fine young man, yet was as dog like in his devotion to Bethan as the day they met nearly two years before.

His fighting skills were less than hers; but were improving, more down to _her_ constant practicing and him joining her just to be with her.

She was like her mother, out there sometimes from dawn to dusk just practicing swings and passes with dagger and sword. Shooting her bow, she could already muster two arrows – unusual for a child her age – and was hoping to get to six like her mother.

As before, where you wanted one, you looked for the other – for they were always together. She had softened with Lucan over the intervening two years, gone was the bossy mop top – now a young girl was gradually taking her place. One used to seeing death and destruction around her, and so being grateful for the love and adoration lavished on her by her constant companion; though it was not unheard of for her to wrap him round her little finger if need be.

But sometimes she would try and dodge Lucan as she felt he talked too much; she was rapidly turning into a female Tristan, silent and watchful, and would try to get out on her own and ride the trails - but would always be stopped by a knight.

Gawain was usually the one to stop her, or often would accompany her; astonished at the knowledge she already had of nature. "You will make your papa proud one day, little scout!" he would smile.

Her elemental abilities were becoming stronger now, and she allowed the wind guide her about. Merlin, the dour Woad shaman, watched her and was proud. As proud she was of _his_ bloodline, descended from shamans and chiefs as he was.

Dagonet and Ilara were blissfully happy; Lucan adored her and had taken to calling her mother immediately. She was content as she now had what was so sorely missing from her life – a family. She still missed her husband and son, but knew they would be happy for her.

Dagonet could only thank all the deities for sending her to him. Her soft voice and quiet ways matched his gentle nature to perfection; and he felt that at last his heart had found what it longed for, and his soul its mate.

He had wanted more children, but they had plenty of time - and had much fun 'moving furniture'; a phrase that still made Ilara giggle, like the other knights. They were his brothers and, along with their families, he could not believe the extremes they went to to ensure that he and Ilara finally found out their true feelings. He smiled, remembering that first night.

Guinevere's pregnancy, like San's, was progressing well. She was serene and happy and Arthur was devoted to her. She had long since lost any feelings for Lancelot, they had now slipped into a passing friendship. They both knew they would never be close, too many bad memories haunted them as to what might have happened; but at least they were friends, and it helped Arthur to know that all was well between his beloved wife and his beloved best friend and brother.

San was two months ahead of Guinevere in her pregnancy and her due date was imminent. Tristan was loathed to leave her; he had a dark feeling of dread with him these days, deep down he felt he would lose her - San would hug and caress him, soothing his concerns saying they were the worries of knowing she nearly passed when birthing Bethan. But he was Arthur's scout and he had to go as commanded.

Though for his part Arthur, knowing of his scout's concerns, tried to make it as little as possible.

Lancelot and Amila were becoming as inseparable as Tristan and Sandrina; and all mercilessly made fun of the former womaniser for being a devoted partner to his Woad. The knight took it all in good part, most of the time, knowing his heart had finally found its home with the woman who drove him mad with love and frustration in equal measure.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

And so time passed, six months since the night of the 'scheme'; Tristan and Bethan had only been gone one day, and were not due to return for another two.

San was in the Tavern talking to the other knights. Gawain and Galahad were chatting about two new serving maids, twin sisters apparently, that had started at the Tavern the night before. San thought how smitten they seemed with them already, so much so that neither had immediately tried to bed them - instead had been gallant and gentlemanly all night.

She looked at the two men she considered now her younger brothers; Gawain her favourite because of the love and attention he lavished on Bethan, knowing she was too heavy with child now to do as much herself. They would often laugh at the jealousy that Lucan would display to Gawain; seeing him as the only true rival for Bethan's affections as she adored the knight so, her protestations that Lucan would be the one she would marry fell on deaf ears at this time.

Lancelot sat opposite her, his back against the wall, his leg on the bench and Amila leaning back against his thigh and chest, his arms wrapped possessively around her waist - both having a contented look on their faces. Lancelot felt her gaze and looked over the top of Amila's head "I love you sister" he mouthed.

She smiled and mouthed back "and I you, brother".

"I am going riding Lancelot - coming?" Amila stood, stretching "I am too lazy and my horse needs a ride."

"Nay, not today - I will await your return my love, with my breath barely bated!" He smiled.

She kicked him "Oww! Cruel vixen! What was that for?" he laughed.

She leant forward and kissed him hard, he immediately responded – ignoring the whistles and cries of "rroouusss" from the others - "because I love you" she said into his mouth.

"The kiss or the kick?" he grinned, staring into her eyes.

"Both!" she laughed striding away towards the stables.

San had been feeling uncomfortable and sick all day; Ilara too was looking paler than usual and both women felt they would be better going back to their respective rooms for some rest.

As she stood, Ilara wobbled, she was very flushed in the face – Dagonet was immediately at her side, feeling her forehead.

She slapped his hand away with a slight laugh "Dagonet…I am…." She collapsed into his embrace.

He swept her up into his arms, worry etched across his face "She has a fever; I must put her to bed…"

"I will come with you and we can fetch Merlin on the way" San said.

As she stood she gasped, Lancelot looked at the floor "San? Where in the name of all the Heavens has all that water come from?"

Everyone turned…….

"My waters have broken - the baby is coming!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Lancelot led her to her room, she had to keep stopping and breathing through the contractions.

"It is…. too fast…and too soon…" she grunted "I….want Tristan…."

Lancelot cast his eyes about knowing he could not leave her, but likewise knowing that Tristan needed to be here. "Gawain!" He called in relief but urgently on spying the blond knight "go and fetch Tristan! Goddess I wish Bethan were here, she would track him in a heartbeat."

Amila rushed up moments later "What is it? Galahad has come yelling to the stables saying everyone is getting sick and I must help…"

Lancelot gave her a worried look "San is having the baby and Ilara has collapsed with a fever."

"What! I will fetch Merlin…"

"He was going to be fetched to help Ilara…."

"I will fetch the bloody healer then! My _cousin_ needs help!" She was getting angry.

"My _sister_ will not ail!" replied Lancelot determinedly, trying to prove he had the closer tie to the woman gasping between them.

"LOOK! I do not….give a bloody DAMN….… who you get or why…just fetch _someone……_ who can bloody….. _HELP ME_!" Exclaimed an aggravated San; she gave Lancelot a desperate look "I want….Tristan!"

Amila looked at Lancelot"I can find him quicker than Gawain; I will go with him!"

"But that means…me….I will…." He looked at Sandrina desperately.

"Well, it will put you in good stead for helping birth ours!" Amila grinned - even San smiled at the horrified look Lancelot had on his face. "Do not worry cousin; I will get your Tristan to you." and she took off "GAWAIN…_GAWAIN_! WAIT!"

Lancelot and Sandrina regarded each other, she laughed out loud "Brother do not fear me; I am not about to turn into a demon!"

"You say that _now_ - but I remember too well what Bors has told us about Vanora; the spitting, the biting, the cursing…." He shuddered, She had hold of his hand as another contraction bit deep.

"…Room…_now_!" She gasped.

"San…my _hand_….." his thumb crunched, Lancelot gritted his teeth at the pain "never mind…"

They made their way slowly to her room; she was finally able to collapse on the bed.

"I will fetch Merlin…"

"NAY! He…he is….with Ilara….she is sick….I….I am doing…..what women do….every day…." She panted, sweat on her brow.

"What can I DO!" Lancelot was desperate to help her.

"Hot water…..strips of fabric….a knife…some twine….and linen…."

Lancelot went to the only place he knew he could find someone to help him get all of that; in the tavern he collided with Vanora who was just coming in to sort it out for the evening stint. "Lancelot! What on earth is the matter? You look as if all the demons of Hades are on your heels!"

"They may as well be - San is having her baby!" He gasped "VERY quickly and Ilara has collapsed. My stubborn sister will not let me fetch Merlin as he is tending Ilara; but….I am fearful Van, she says it is too fast and too soon…."

The other woman's face clouded "When her waters broke did anyone see?"

"I did…"

"Was there blood in it?"

"I do not know – it happened over there; I did not _study_ the stuff Vanora!"

Vanora moved quickly to the puddle of fluid over by one of the tables. Blood was most definitely visible. "Something is wrong Lancelot. Get the things you need from the stores, Bors will help you; I will go back to her with them, you _must _fetch Merlin."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

San was surprised to see Vanora walk through the door with all the things they would need. "Oh, Van - glad I am to see you! I am sorry about the mess in the tavern, I was not expecting it…." The other woman waved away her apologies. "Where is my…….brother? Surely he did not………pass out so soon!" She smiled through gritted teeth.

"Nay, nay he has gone to fetch Merlin." She smiled and then paused.

"What is it? Is it Ilara?"

"As far as I know she is well enough; but….San…." Van paused, took a deep breath and plunged on "there was blood in your waters."

San closed her eyes "Oh God, not again – this is how it started with Bethan. Tristan's dream may yet come to pass then." she sighed.

"What dream….?"

"He dreamt I died; he would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat - hugging me and begging me not to go. Every night this happened for a two week; it took me days to get him to tell me. He was so frightened Van and you know that is not like Tristan – he fears nothing; and now it seems he was right."

A single tear trickled down from her eye "I want him here so much Van…. "Another wave of pain washed over her "If he was here…I know…I know I would fare….better."

"Now, you listen to me - I saw you cheat death once to be with him, and we will make sure you do it again. Are you with me?" Van sounded emphatic, despite the worry in the pit of her stomach.

"Aye…"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Gawain and Amila rode swiftly through the forest - they were following the tracks left by Tristan and Bethan.

"I hope we find them in time." Amila said worriedly.

"We will not have to…."

"What!"

"They will find _us_, trust me!" the knight smiled.

"You like them well, do you not?"

"Aye, they are my family now; Bethan is the light in my life. Sandrina my older sister and Tristan my brother; the only knight I am closer to is Galahad, he is like my twin.

They are all to me – When I have too much ale San puts me to bed, sobers me up, holds my hair out of the way when I am sick. Tristan laughs with me" at Amila's surprised look he smiled "he _does; _in his own way mayhap, but he does. He is a good friend, a good brother to me."

"That is good to hear…" said a sardonic voice from behind them; Tristan and Bethan rode into view.

"Gawain!" Cried Bethan, riding forward and hugging the knight.

"Little scout! I told Amila you would find us…" he grinned.

"We could not do otherwise, Gawain, you were making enough noise to wake the very dead!" She giggled.

Tristan had been studying his friend and the Woad. Something was wrong. "San!" he suddenly exclaimed. His worst fears were realised when Gawain nodded and Amila looked at the ground. "What is it; what has happened!"

"She has gone into labour Tristan." said Gawain.

"But it is too soon; it was to be another two week before she was to birth the baby."

"She needs you; she was asking for you…"

"Bethan ride back with Gawain – Amila and I will ride ahead – understood?"

"I will not lose her?"

"Not if I have aught to do with it…." He stroked her cheek, before he clicked his tongue and loosed his arm; the horse leant forward and the hawk wheeled high into the air before returning to settle on Bethan's arm. The two regarded each other for a moment, then the hawk inclined her head to the child; almost as if she was comforting her.

"She loves you…" said Gawain in surprise.

There was the briefest pause, as she swallowed her tears, before Bethan responded "aye, she is beautiful is she not?"

"She is Tristan's hawk though?"

"Aye…."

"What is her name?" Gawain leaned in conspiratorially.

"Father has _never_ told you?"

"Nay, never…..would you? I promise I will not tell even Galahad."

"Could I refuse my friend?" she smiled and then stared lovingly at the bird on her arm "Hope; her name is Hope. Father named her for his life." Gawain raised a quizzical eyebrow. "He had hope for his life…."

"Deep down his quite the old romantic…." Gawain smiled.

"Gawain you have no idea. The love he lavishes on us, the affection. He maybe does not speak so much; but when he does every word is chosen to impart exactly what he wants to say. I wish to be just like him…" She spoke with such affection for Tristan, that Gawain was envious.

"You love him very much…"

"Aye, I know another put me in my mother's belly – but believe me that Tristan is my father in here" she pointed to her heart "and here" she pointed to her head. Gawain nodded, a lump in his throat.

"What of me little scout?" he grinned, leaning closer.

"I love you too, Gawain; you are my favourite knight. You always treat me like a grown up." She reached across and hugged him.

"And I you little scout. You will always be important to me; I hope if I have a daughter one day she will be just like you." he hugged her back.

She blushed and punched him arm "you've been taking flattery lessons from Lancelot; Father calls it bullshitting…."

Gawain roared "Do not let your mother ever hear you say that Bethan! Feel better?"

"Aye - you are a good friend Gawain, and I am lucky to have you. I hope it will always be so."

"Aye it will, Little Scout – you will always have a constant and unwavering friend here."

They continued their ride back to the fort; Bethan comforted by the presence and the chatter of her beloved knight.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Lancelot arrived with Merlin. He swiftly checked San over – concern briefly flicked over his face. "I will return…"

Outside Lancelot caught him "well?"

"It is not good, I cannot lie; it is the same as before. I was concerned this would happen."

"Can you save her?" No reply "_can you save her_!"

"I am not sure; I was not sure then and naught has changed now, except we have all aged a few years. I can only do my best."

"Then _do_ it, for I will not lose her" he scrubbed a hand over his eyes and muttered so quietly that Merlin strained to hear as he went back inside "I have lost enough this lifetime."

San looked to him as returned to her side, a smile fixed to his face – his charm on full "Tristan…..I want Tristan…"

"He _will_ come sister; does he not always come when you need him?"

She smiled wanly, holding out her hand for his. Van gasped when she saw the strange angle of his thumb "she has already broke it Van, I would rather her damage the other digits on that hand than mangle both!" he smiled.

He never flinched as she once again gripped the hand with the damaged thumb "Brother, you know I love you?"

"Of course sister, did you not sacrifice your own family to save me?" his voice was thick with emotion.

"I sacrificed no family – I chose my brother over my cousin is all." She gasped as another wave of pain came.

"Is it very bad?"

"Aye, but the end result is worth it…" she smiled, the sweat pouring off her "is that not right San?"

"Aye lass that is, I love each and every one of my bairns." Van pushed Lancelot out of the way to see how far along Sandrina was…."Not long now San….not too long now my pet" She glanced worriedly at Lancelot as he immediately resumed his place.

Bors appeared at the door "Well, how is my little wench!" he grinned "not popped your second yet?"

"Oh Bors, I am not an old hand at this like your Van!"

"Ah little wench", he walked in and rubbed her head "you will be well."

Van dragged him outside"there is much blood - _fetch Merlin_!"

"She will not….die will she?" his face fell.

"Honestly? I do not know….I do not."

He strode quickly away.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Elsewhere Dagonet was frantically pacing around a restless Ilara. "What is wrong with her Merlin?" He asked.

"She has a fever brought on by an infection. It seems she has had an…injury - an internal one and a dormant infection has flared."

"Internal injury? How; where?"

"She was in a village sacked by Romans was she not?"

"Aye, but…._oh_…I see…" he rubbed his hands over his eyes "she never said aught to me of it."

"Women feel ashamed of this – even though it is not their fault. She mayhap thought you would reject her - even though you would not.." he nodded his head to still Dagonet's protests.

"Will she live?"

"It is hopeful, but not certain. I must go, Sandrina needs me too."

"How is she?"

"Not good Dagonet – we may yet lose her." He sighed sadly "The Goddess tests me sorely this day."

Bors appeared "Merlin, we need help; San is bad - there is much blood, my Van says."

"I will return as quickly as I can." He nodded to Dagonet and left.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"PUSH! You must _push_! San!" cried Lancelot.

"I _am_ bloody pushing, you _bastard_! _Piss off_ and leave me alone!" She grunted at him.

"I am just trying to help you, you _harpy_!" he flinched as she gave his hand another vicious squeeze as the pain rose again.

"I am sorry Lancelot, I am……" she gasped with pain.

Vanora was about to open the door, but it was rocked back on its hinges as Tristan burst into the room "Sandrina!" He saw all the bloody sheets in Vanora's arms, panic gripped him briefly before controlled himself "you started without me…" he smiled, pushing the fear and worry down and walking to her; his face as passive and his voice as calm as ever.

"Tristan….oh Tristan…..I missed you…" she whispered.

"I am here now and I will not leave you again until you are well, you will not leave me San…..you will _not_." Merlin entered "Help her!" he hissed.

Lancelot watched in wonder at the control that Tristan had over his emotions; if it were he and Alima he would not have such mastery over his feelings.

"I am doing all I can boy; but until the babe is born I can do no more now."

With one last final heave, San pushed her baby out into the world. A lusty scream rent the air"a good pair of lungs at least…." Smiled Vanora.

"Now I can try to help her; but first we must stop the bleeding."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Bors stood with Dagonet"Will she live my friend?"

"He thinks there as a chance, but it will be a time yet before we know. He… he said…." Dagonet swallowed "He said if she does there will be no children. Bors…." The gentle giant of a knight leant his head on the wall by his brother, and wept.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

As Merlin worked on Sandrina, knowing he would soon need to return to Ilara - he asked the Goddess, the earth, the wind, destiny, fate and even Arthur's God why they would torment these souls so.

Arthur paced outside Tristan's room; also knowing Ilara lay close to death in Dagonet's. "Dear God, spare them - _please_. They hold the hearts and souls of two of the most honourable and noble men I have known. These men _deserve_ happiness, and not just they – Galahad, Gawain and Bors will miss Sandrina; but most of all Lancelot. She is a sister to him, even laying down the blood of her own kin to save him on the field of battle.

Ilara will be missed by them too; she is well liked by the knights for making Dagonet so happy and having such a gentle soul. She is his rock as San is Tristan's and I fear for us all without them."

Along with him, Gawain and Galahad paced back and forth. Guinevere stood to one side, her hand on her own swollen abdomen; Arthur went to her "All will be well my love you will see."

He heard a lusty scream - Lancelot rushed out "she has had it! She has had it!"

"What is it?"

"A _baby_!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

And so the wheels of Destiny turn on. Will the women survive, is destiny's path finally coming to an end….?


	28. Coming Back

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O) Milo is a 13th C. Name and one I think fits here quite well._**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Twenty-Eight– Coming Back_**

"Well, we hardly thought it would be a dog, Lancelot!" cried Gawain, laughing at the flustered knight "What _is_ it? Boy or girl?"

"A boy…they have a son…and you, little scout – have a brother!" He grinned wildly at Bethan.

"Oh…." She was crestfallen, her worst fear realised.

"What is it little scout?" asked Gawain kneeling in front of her, ignoring the dagger looks from Lucan, "Why so sad?" he lifted her chin with his finger; green eyes regarded large blue ones as tears welled, but did not fall from them.

"Father will love him more – teach him to fight and scout! I will be consigned to…._heal_" she almost spat the word "and do 'women's work'!"

"Healing is no bad thing, little scout; where would your mother and Ilara be, where would we all be, without the healers - especially some such as Merlin?"

"But I want to be a _warrior _and a_ scout _Gawain; that is _all_ I want."

"I do not think it would be no bad thing to be a healer and stay away from the fighting. It will keep you safe - I would hate to worry about you as our fathers do our mothers now" offered Lucan.

Casting him a withering look that would curdle milk Bethan replied, "I _will_ be a warrior Lucan, and a scout. If father will not teach me then I will find those that _will_. I am part Woad _and_ Sarmatian - I can do _anything_!" She spoke proudly holding her head high in defiance, and bringing a smile to the lips of those assembled. "The Woads can teach me scouting and my knights can teach me fighting…." Her voice hitched at the last, and despite the defiance those with her saw her shoulders sag slightly in anticipated defeat.

"Wait, patience - speak to your father, Bethan; you may yet be judging him over harshly. The Tristan you spoke of on the trail, the brother knight I have known all my adult life, would not abandon you as you suggest – mark me, little scout. Wait?"

She flung her arms round his neck and they hugged tight "Aye, aye – I will wait Gawain. You give me good counsel; I wish I was more patient like you…."

"You are only nearing nine summers little scout; there is time aplenty to be the adult! Now how about I go and see if you may yet see your baby brother and your mother?"

She nodded, ignoring the murderous looks she and Gawain were getting from Lucan. He strode forward "Why do you not let me comfort you?" he hissed "Always Gawain gets to speak to you, comfort you and guide you!"

The other knights looked on at the very first lover's tiff between the two companions. They knew from the darkening of the blue of Bethan's eyes she was becoming angry "I will not tolerate your meddling anymore Lucan! I love Gawain; he is my best friend in the whole world!

For God's sake, I am not yet _nine_ and he is _four and twenty_! He is 15 years older than I! I will not leave my knights so you can feel secure in my love for you, Lucan! I am not a 'pretty little girl' who likes to sit and gabble with other 'pretty little girls'; I like to fight, ride and scout which means I mix with _boys_ – you will have to accept that if you wish to remain my chosen…." She paused for breath "otherwise, go find a 'pretty little maid' to stroke your ego. For I will not!" She marched off toward her parent's room; leaving Lucan in stunned silence in her wake.

"She is her mother's daughter and no mistake!" Grinned Galahad to Arthur.

Arthur rolled his eyes "he will learn, as we all do!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Gawain put his head round the door, "Can Bethan come and see you…" his eyes fell on the bed "Oh Dear Goddess!"

There was blood everywhere; Tristan's face though masked as usual, held eyes that were full of pain as Vanora and Merlin worked to stem the bleeding.

Merlin glanced round "it is bad, but we are winning. _Do not _let the child in here….it is too much to see, even for her."

Gawain swung round to Bethan, ashen faced and a forced smile plastered on it. "They are not quite ready for us it seems little scout…" he took in the mutinous look of Bethan and the open mouthed Lucan behind her. "Had a fight?"

"Aye" her eyes strayed to the door, so he moved in front of it "it is bad, is it not?" she whispered to him.

Gawain knelt down before her, momentarily undecided; he had never lied to his Bethan before, but…. what he had just seen…..this was different, yet she trusted him to always speak as true as her father would. "Aye, it is….but Merlin says they are winning."

"I do not want to lose them; I did not mean it!" her arms snuck round his neck and she burrowed her head into his shoulder.

"Mean what; oh, about your brother! That has not caused this Bethan – it is just bad luck naught else. All will end well; your mother gave us all a scare like this before did she not and that turned out alright, did it not?" he hugged her tightly back, stroking her hair.

She nodded into his shoulder, he could feel her tears wetting his shirt – she was a funny little thing; would never cry about a hurt no matter how bad the injury, but would weep if she thought she had brought unnecessary pain to others.

"Shall we go and practice with Galahad? I promise I will bring you back in a little while." They walked off hand in hand, unlikely friends by any standards – the young knight and the younger girl; but their friendship was deep now and would always run true. Both knew either would lay down their life for the other.

Lucan stood looking on, clenching and unclenching his hands. Arthur approached him "Bethan is devoted to her knights – they are her kin; Gawain particularly, after her own father of course - if you try to part her from them, you _will_ lose her forever."

He patted the boy on the back "Do not fret so Lucan; Little Scout loves you considerably, but alas she is her mother's daughter – you cannot hope to master her. Tristan has never tried, has always accepted her mother loves him and him alone – try to do the same and she will return, mark me."

The youngster nodded "I could not lose her _and_ my mother, my Lord" tears welled in his eyes, though he would not let them fall in front of his king.

Arthur gripped his shoulder, "I doubt you will lose either. Merlin, your father would not permit it. If anyone is likely to lose aught here this day, it is Bethan." He walked grimly away.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Merlin smiled thinly inside the room. "We have stopped the bleeding, it should settle back to its normal loss after a birthing now. Hopefully if she lasts the night she will recover fairly quickly."

He turned to Tristan, the smile leaving "She has too much damage inside; what has happened to her in the past - it is like Ilara, they have ripped them inside. She will not even be able to conceive again Tristan, I am sorry boy, but…there will be no more children."

"You think all I care for are more bastard children?" hissed the scout, anger in his eyes, leaping to his feet "You think she is not more important to me than _that_? I would not want _him_ if I had known his birth could carry her off from me". He pointed to his baby son.

"I have two children, more than I ever thought…" he sat down again, the fury fading as quickly as it had flashed "I need no more…"

"Tris?" Sandrina whispered "What did we have?"

"A son; big too…" he smiled.

"Like his father; big and strong and full of life…" her dim eyes twinkled then darkened slightly "I am so tired."

"Then sleep, but not for long – for I do not want death to steal you away whilst you slumber and cannot fight it."

"As long as you are with me, death has no power here…" she grasped his hand before sleep took her, though her grip barely lessened.

Merlin and Vanora smiled at each other; she would fight…..and she _would_ come back to them.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Merlin came out to be confronted by frantic knights wanting news; Bethan and Gawain had returned, though she was studiously ignoring Lucan. "How fares she?" asked Lancelot first "How fares my sister?"

"It is not good, there will be no more children for them – though I doubt he cares" he gestured to Tristan in the room "if she lives through this night, she will recover. But I cannot forget the part the Romans have played in this Arthur."

"How so?"

"Both she and Ilara have been…..brutalised; it is a wonder that Sandrina was able to have any children at all. Ilara will have no more herself; this infection will leave her barren." The Shaman spoke grimly.

Arthur nodded "But they both will live? _She_ will live?" he tipped his head toward the room behind the old man.

The smile returned to the shaman as he surveyed the worried faces "Aye, it is likely - if they survive the night."

They all clapped each other on the back; Gawain picked Bethan up and swung her round and round. Lancelot hugged Amila tight. "I do not want you to go through this; I wish no children…." He whispered into her hair as he drew back. Amila stared at him with a fixed smile and worried eyes…..

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Merlin hurried back to Ilara "How does she fare?"

"Quite well; her fever seems to have stopped rising" Dagonet looked exhausted.

"You should rest, you will be of no use to her if you collapse or sicken yourself. Her waking may be swift, should she live, but her recovery slow. She will need you more than ever".

"Do as the man says Dag - we can stay. How is San?" Bors asked; Dagonet stopped.

Merlin frowned "Her problems stem from a similar cause to Ilara – she too, if she survives, will not be able to have any more children…" both men with him nodded, knowing what had happened to San – but shocked at this turn of events "she is bad, but willing to fight – she has just told Tristan that death holds no power over her so long as he is with her." A hint of pride could be heard in his voice.

"Aye; that is my feisty little wench!" Bors clapped Merlin on the back, causing the Shaman to smile despite himself – he still marvelled at the utter devotion all the knights had to Sandrina and her daughter "I knew she would not give in so long as we got that bloody scout of hers to her!"

Dagonet went to lay down on the floor at the foot of the bed, whilst Merlin ministered to Ilara. A while later he touched her forehead, it was definitely cooling.

He roused Dagonet "Her fever has broken; she should begin to wake soon." Dagonet was on his feet by the bed in moments, holding Ilara's hand in his.

Her eyes fluttered open an hour later "Dagonet?" she whispered "What happened? I feel so ill."

"You were my sweet woman, you were – but it is over now you will mend." Dagonet sighed with relief.

"How bad was I?"

"You were sick, an infection…."

"Where…where was the infection?" she hesitantly in confusion "I have had no wounds."

Dagonet and Bors, who had not left his side, exchanged a look. Ilara did not miss it "What is it Dagonet? Please tell me…" She became tearful.

"I will leave you Dag, my Van will need me…." He nearly said 'to help with the children' but stopped himself.

"Thanks Bors…" Dagonet looked up with gratitude, friendship and brotherhood in his eyes, but the most was sadness; sadness that brought a lump to Bors' throat. "I appreciate aught you have done…"

"I have done naught one brother would not do for another" he said gruffly, and he stomped off cursing Dag and Ilara's bad luck, for they would have been wonderful parents to one of their own just as they were to Lucan.

Dagonet sighed as he looked at the woman he adored with all his heart, but his honour would not allow him to lie. It was awful, but they would face it together; at least they would be together - just hours ago even _that _had looked almost hopeless. Aye, with her by him he could face even this.

"You collapsed in the Tavern, just as Sandrina went into labour. Merlin has found the infection is…..is…." he was never very good at delicate matters "it is, umm, where you would carry a babe. It was down to the Romans……hurting you. The infection lay dormant, something unknown triggered it.

You….you will not be able to have any more children, Ilara." Her eyes had widened as he had slowly recounted her illness, what Merlin had found, the fact he knew her secret shame and the ramifications of it all.

She turned from him then "Do not look at me, Dagonet - I am a worthless wretch! I am defiled and cannot even give you your own flesh and blood! You deserve better than I!"

The fear of losing her, the worry of her illness, the sadness that he would never hold his own blood finally broke out of the knight; seizing her arms he turned her abruptly to him "You are not _worthless_!" he cried "you are no _wretch_! You are most certainly _not _defiled! Not in my eyes, nor anyone's here.

Sandrina is in a similar state, she may yet die and cannot have any more children all from being used, abused and defiled by many Romans. But she will hold her head high, and so will you!

I love you more than I can ever say – I do not care what happened to you before I met you. Well, I care that they hurt you and caused you so much pain, but I do not care about not having more children….I have Lucan. He is my son as far as I am concerned, and I have _you_ – what more do I bloody need?"

He hauled her into his arms "I love you Ilara, so much it hurts me. Why would I not want you now?" he hugged her so fiercely she had trouble breathing, but she hugged him back whispering her love of him too. They stayed like this for some time, unaware of a small face at the door.

Lucan watched silently; his own heart hurt to see his mother and father so upset – but he was also happy to know his father loved him so much. Though he would have liked to have had a sibling; he felt tears in his eyes, but angrily wiped them away.

A hand touched his shoulder; he spun round to find Bethan staring at him. "Why do you creep up on people like that? What are you doing here anyway?" He was still angry at her.

"I followed you…."

"I see that!"

She put her arms round him and hugged him tight. "I heard them, but you will always have me Lucan, always. I could always share _my_ brother with you….."

"That is not what you said earlier!" he tried not to hug her back but his anger was waning, just staring into those big blue eyes was always his undoing, and his arms went round her waist unconsciously "you said I could choose someone else; I understood you not to want me."

"I will not be owned Lucan, and sometimes your jealousy makes me feel like that. But you are a good person and I love you."

"You love him so much also…." He referred to Gawain.

"Aye, I do; he is very important to me. But I love you in a different way."

"As a friend…I forgot." He noted sarcastically.

"Not only as a friend; you want us to marry one day, you say so often. Well, so do I." She smiled.

"Really?"

"Aye, but we will have to be quite old…."

"How old?"

"About 16 or 17!" she grinned.

He hugged her hard and kissed her forehead "I can wait; and I will be better." They walked off with their arms round each other back to her parent's room; unaware they were being watched.

Arthur smiled; everything always worked out for those two. He just hoped the same could be said for their parents.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Come and meet your brother, Bethan" Said Tristan, as she stuck her head round the door. Sandrina and the bed had been cleaned up and all looked well.

Lucan pushed her through "I will be here" He smiled.

She walked over to the little crib and looked at the chubby baby in it. He gurgled and she felt overwhelming love for the little boy looking at her, but was also still worried. "So he is your favourite now…." She'd not realised she'd said it out loud until she saw the confused look in her father's eyes "It makes no matter, I cannot help but love him anyway." She smiled sadly.

Tristan pulled her onto his lap as realisation dawned, "You know you will have to teach your brother to scout as I teach you. The same goes for your bow, sword and dagger work…"

"Really? You will still teach me? But he is _yours_!" She exclaimed, shocked.

"Aye, and so are you." they hugged.

San's eyes fluttered open "Little scout; what do you think of your brother?"

"He is lovely, and father still loves me!"

"I told you…." her eyes shut again, her breathing laboured.

"I do not want to sleep on my own, but you will not need me here and what of the baby; has he a name?"

"You can stay with me little scout," Gawain's head appeared at the door "Lucan too, we can all sleep in the hay in the stable tonight. Agreed?"

"Aye, but can I stay for a bit with Papa?" she had started using her pet name for her father more and more recently.

"I will come back for you. By the way Tristan, what _is_ the child's name?"

The scout thought for a moment "Milo; it was my brother's name."

Gawain, Lucan and Bethan went the crib "Hello Milo!" Bethan smiled at the little boy.

"How will we feed him until mama is well?" asked Bethan.

"Vanora has offered to help him to feed from your mother. Your mother will be well soon Bethan."

"I know it; she has _you_ here now. She will always fight to be with _you _Papa; all who know her, know that." The girl smiled.

Gawain watched as the scout hauled her onto his lap, and hugged her tight. He suddenly realised what Bethan had been talking about when talked earlier in the forest; the man before him loved them deeply. The young knight quietly left the room, taking Lucan with him.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

And so the wheels of Destiny turn on. Her path is shortening rapidly now; but what of the women lying in beds with their worried partners by them?****


	29. Explanations

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O) Ysabeau and Alesia are 13th C. names, but I thought they fitted the story quite well._**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Twenty-Nine– Explanations_**

As they walked to the stables Lucan decided to deal with Gawain. He had been thinking; he would find out the knight's intentions, then he could decide what to do. If Gawain loved his Bethan as much as he, then he would step back and let them be happy together. It would kill him and tear his heart in two, but so long as Bethan was happy….

"How much do you love Bethan?" he turned to look at the knight walking next to him.

Gawain had to struggle to keep his face blank, he still marvelled at how Tristan could do it, "A lot, why?"

"Then I will leave her be…"

"Why?"

"Because she loves you and you love her…."

"Ah, I see; but I do not love her like that, and she does not love me in that way either."

"But you just said…."

"And it is true; Bethan and I love each other _very_ much, but there are all sorts of love Lucan. You love your father, correct? Does that mean you do not love Bethan?"

"Of course not! I love her with all my heart – all I want to do is marry her when I am old enough."

"She feels the same way; but the knights are dear friends to her. Even Arthur; well, except for Tristan and her mother."

"Aye, but _she_ loves _you_."

'_The boy has got it bad_!' thought Gawain, stifling a smile "aye, but as a _friend_; only as a friend, Lucan. I am 15 years older than her anyway!" he laughed "butyou _must _control this jealousy of yours, or you _will_ drive her away.

Bethan will not be controlled, no more than her mother will; and the more you try to, the more she will resist you. Eventually she will tire of it and caste you aside; _then_ you will have more problems than you know how to deal with.

I know of at least three of Bors' boys who are smitten with her, Gilly not the least, as well as a few lads from the fort. Yet still she remains true to you; but it will not always be so if you continue on this path, so give her some breathing space.

She is like her parents, a wild thing – I have seen her in action, she will not be tied down and boxed in. She _needs_ to be free, Lucan.

As for me, and the other knights, we are her _friends._ We love her; we adore her, but not as you do. Believe me now?" he smiled at the boy "but it is a nice thing to offer to stand back for her to be happy, for I know how much you care for her."

Lucan beamed "Thank you Gawain; I understand much more now."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A while later Gawain fetched Bethan back to the stables and the three settled down for the night.

He watched the two deep in conversation; at first Bethan looked annoyed, but Lucan pressed on with his point. Finally they ended up hugging, and slept huddled together for the rest of the night.

Whilst he was watching over them, he heard someone enter. Drawing his sword, he spun on…..Ysabeau, one of the twins from the Tavern. "What are you doing here?" he asked surprised.

"I thought you might be hungry? Galahad said you would not be coming tonight because you were being a surrogate father!" he rolled his eyes; he would deal with Galahad later. He noticed that she had a light voice and a laugh like a little bell. She held a plate of food in her hand.

"What is it?" he gestured to the plate.

"Do you know, I am not sure - but it smells palatable at least. I think it is some sort of stew!" she smiled again.

"Where is your sister, Ysabeau?" He took the plate and began to eat – realising he had fed the children, but not himself.

"She is lavishing attention on Galahad. But how did you know it was me? No one can usually tell us apart." She was surprised.

"You have a mole just under your chin and Alesia does not."

"You are very observant."

"I am a knight, I have to be. If I was not, I would probably be dead by now. For the same reason, you were greeted with a sword when you entered here." He grinned.

"Ah, I see. How fare their mothers?" she changed the subject, she could feel herself blushing whenever he directed those unwavering dark green eyes at her.

"Little scout's will live, and so will Lucan's – but there will be no more siblings for these two."

"You seem sad, and which one is 'little scout'?"

"I am, they love children; it seems so unfair……" he explained about Bethan's arrival with her mother and their 'tribe' "however it is not to be…I am only glad San survived. Little scout is Bethan, Tristan's daughter."

"Aye, I have seen her with him; they make a good pair. She is apparently almost legend with her fighting and tracking skills for one so young."

"She is part Sarmatian and part Briton. Her grandmother was descended from Merlin's line himself. They are both of them ethereal; they must be, no one else could truly have captured Tristan's heart they way they have."

They conversed like this long into the night; by dawn both felt a connection to the other…..

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Sandrina was beginning to feel like she should wake up, but her eyes were so heavy.

Eventually, two days after the birth of her son she finally managed to force them open. Tristan was where she had last seen him, sat by the bed holding her hand – Bethan, like the last time she had felt death brush past her, folded into his lap.

"Good morrow, Tristan" she whispered, pulling herself painfully into a slightly more upright position. "Where is the baby?"

Tristan had opened his eyes the moment her eyelids moved – a smile spreading across his handsome face as she woke. "Bethan fetch your brother from Van and Bors", the little girl only lingered long enough to kiss her mother before darting away.

"Has he been good?"

"Aye" he smiled "Van has been helping him to feed from you. She was concerned about the bonding if he did not."

"She is a good friend…." Her dim eyes were beginning to glow again, he noticed with relief.

Merlin came in, after colliding with Bethan on the way to fetch her brother.

"How are you child?"

"I am recovering well thanks to you and Van, Merlin." She smiled "Once again you have saved me. I think I owe you my life three times three." She smiled using the old rhyme her mother used.

"Nay, I merely ministered the herbs and suchlike, you were the one who fought with the tenacity of a bear to live." The shaman smiled.

"How will I do?"

"You will do very well, but things have changed this time…." He looked to Tristan, San began to worry; they were not telling her something "Ilara, she is well?"

"She is recovering; like you she was brutalised by the Romans. She will not bear anymore children. Neither will you." he said bluntly.

Tristan felt her hand still in his, no perceptible movement at all – it was as if she had been turned to stone.

"No more?" she turned her head away and would not meet Tristan's eye. She gazed blankly out of the window.

"I care naught for that; we have two beautiful children of our own - that is more than Ilara will have" stated Tristan. He tilted her chin back to him. "I love only you San; I could not stand to see you go through this again; I am glad."

Her eyebrows shot up and she looked away again, "Look at me, _Look at me_ Sandrina." She met his gaze once more "I love you more than life, I am lucky for the family you have already given me."

She smiled a teary smile and rubbed her thumb over one of the tattoos on his cheeks, a small habit she had developed "I am sorry" she whispered.

"Do not be…..there is naught to apologise for" He gathered her into his arms, and neither spoke for some time, Merlin had left.

"Marry me." He whispered. Raising his head and drawing away. He stared intently into her eyes, making her pulse race.

"What?"

"Marry me."

"Why?"

"Because I love you and want you always with me."

"And I you and I always will be; I do not need to marry you to know all this."

"Then marry me."

"But you do not believe in marriage….."

"I _did_ not – past tense…."

"So what changed?"

"You nearly dying - again."

"I do seem to be making a habit of it." She smiled.

"So, marry me."

"Aye…in truth I could do naught else" her smile widened, lit her face and the room around her; his arms were around her and his mouth on hers, before she'd even realised he'd moved. She felt safe again.

Amila and Lancelot entered the room "How are you sister; better obviously" smiled Lancelot at the couple kissing in front of him.

"Brother, what have you done to your hand?" She saw his bound hand, and then horrible realisation dawned "did _I_ do that?"

"It is naught to lose sleep over. Van told me whatever pain you inflicted on me, even if you had beaten me with a large stick, it would still not have touched the surface of the agony you suffered." He smiled again.

"A word…." Tristan beckoned Lancelot outside.

Once the other side of the door, he embraced a surprised Lancelot "Thank you brother".

The dark knight returned the embrace, his voice thick as Tristan rarely showed such emotion outside of the two women in his life "I love her full as much as you Tristan. Could I let my sister die and leave her soul behind?"

Tristan's face, impassive as always, held eyes that were full of emotion – he nodded at Lancelot. "She would have taken mine with her…."

They heard the voices of the women talking; what they were saying caught their attention and they could not help but listen.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Amila looked at San "How fare you cousin, truly?"

"I have felt better admittedly – but I am back."

"You love him that much?"

Sandrina looked out of the window; her face expressionless, her voice low "you have no idea Amila, he is _so _much to me. Where would I be without him? He accepts _me_, not just….what happened to me." Amila nodded, knowing what had been done to her cousin "but also my dark side; the side of me that kills without compunction on the battlefield."

"So he kept you with him?"

"What joy would Heaven hold without Tristan?" she regarded at the younger woman before her "As beautiful as it must be, it would all be grey to me without him there. How would I find my way without my scout to guide me?"

She shook her head "Nay, God took pity this time and did not even bother to call me; Death merely touched my shoulder, naught else. For what would be the point to do more? God would know I would not stay; I would rather be a wraith and stay earthbound with him, even as a shadow at his side, than dwell for an eternity in Heaven without him….."

The two knights outside the door, stood silent and dumbfounded at her quiet explanation of why she did not die.

"Dear wonder!" exclaimed Lancelot quietly "she loves you deeply my brother, for you know what her God and her Heaven means to her."

Tristan merely stood silently; his eyes a war of emotions.

Amila hugged her, "I hope that my love for Lancelot deepens to that level. Though in truth, I would not lose him now."

Blue eyes swivelled from the window, and regarded her quietly "I think it is close already, otherwise why not tell him you are with child? Is it because you know he will be fearful because of me, and so you hold back to spare his feelings" she smiled "But cousin, he will notice soon enough."

Amila froze, as did Lancelot outside the door, "He says he does not want children; what am I to do?"

"How far are you?"

"Two month, to the best of my reckoning."

"Then for seven months there is nothing you can do." She smiled "But you have not been injured as Ilara and I have, so your time may well be easier."

"I know that, you know that, even Tristan probably knows that; but I doubt Lancelot will accept it."

"Well, I will have to…." Lancelot strode in, his face as like thunder. "Two _months _and you never told me."

Amila looked concerned, until he picked her up and swung her around his face breaking into a grin "we will cope, I only hope you have San's will to stay with me as she has to stay with Tristan. If you do, I do not fear losing you."

San looked at Tristan "You heard, how much?"

"Enough", his eyes full, he hugged her tightly.

Just then, Bethan entered the room with Van, Bors and everyone else.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Bethan ran to Bors and Vanora's…..no.9 opened the door as the older child shot inside "Mama is awake and wanting Milo." She grinned.

Vanora handed her brother over and they left with her, collecting Gawain and Galahad on the way. Bethan cooing to the baby all the way, "Milo you are so sweet, I could eat you!" she feathered little kisses on his cheek making him gurgle.

Dagonet leant over the gallery "What is it!"

"San is awake and wanting Milo!" called Bors.

"Thank the Goddess! Tell her we will be to see her as soon as Ilara is able." He went back to their room. "San is awake."

"Thank the Goddess! How is the baby?"

"Well, apparently. It would seem he was fine from the start, it was San they nearly lost."

"Could I go and see them?"

"Not today you are still too weak. Plus…there is the baby." He looked concerned.

"I cannot avoid seeing another baby for the rest of my life Dagonet. What about Bors and Vanora, will you cut yourself from your brother?" She smiled sadly "We will go to see her. You can carry me…"

So it was that even Dagonet and Ilara came to see them.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Sandrina was delighted to see them all; even Merlin, Arthur and Guinevere came. She and Tristan announced their impending marriage - the tumult that followed was overwhelming.

She looked to Merlin "will you carry out the ceremony Uncle?"

"It would be my pleasure, niece…" the older man smiled.

"Thank you, and will you all attend?" She asked the assembled knights. "For there are none that I would want there more than you….except….but then they are all dead…." Her voice caught and tears welled.

Tristan touched her arm and began to lead everyone out of the room. Merlin stayed, "why do you weep?"

"God is punishing me Merlin. That is why I will not bear Tristan more children. It is my penance for what happened to my village." The tears began to flow freely "If I had not struggled and fought, my family would yet live and so would my tribe."

"You punish yourself for naught; your God does not strike me as the sort for vengeance like that, not from what Arthur speaks of Him. You were but a child then, 11 is no age. You had a destiny to fulfil, and it is sad that they perished to help you follow that path – but it was necessary."

"I got my brother, parents….Dear God, my entire tribe wiped out; my people are no more_ because of me_!"

"Nay! It was not your fault; and you saved so many others, Lancelot, Tristan and Dagonet – not to mention all the children – you not only brought those men back, you have saved them in battle more than once. You have given the scout a life he could only have dreamt of….children, a wife!"

"I have killed without compunction, slaughtered even! Look at the battlefield after Odell died!"

"Did they not deserve it? Your view to Arthur was the right one - have we had more raids? Not recently I know, and because word has spread that we are not easy on our enemies any longer.

I know you feel sorry for Odell's death; but his fate was sealed when he challenged the path destiny had laid out for you. Would you undo what you have done?"

"Dear God forgive me; nay, nay I would not – I would choose Lancelot each and every time. He is kin to me; _blood_ tie, _not_ heart one." She closed her eyes against the guilt, tears sliding from beneath her lashes.

"I would expect no less; you made the decision you had to." He laid his hand on her arm "You have been true to destiny, at whatever the cost to yourself, my niece; and she will be true to you. Mark me well; you have earned her favour full as much as Odell lost it."

Before she could ask what he meant, he was gone. Lancelot strode in; his arms around her before she could move. His voice thick with emotion "I love you San…."

"You heard - why do you always listen at keyholes my brother; eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves!" She tried to lighten the moment. For once her brother would not bite.

"You are sister to me, and I would choose the same – if ever I had to." He mumbled into her hair. Her hands snaked round his shoulders.

"I have family; aye, I have a brother."

"You have more than I; they all love you dearly, even Arthur. As for Tristan, I think he would soon follow you if aught happened to you; by his own hand if necessary."

"He would not leave the children, Lancelot." She drew back "they would remind him of me; he would be there for them. As for me, I would not stray far from him…"

"I heard that too" he smiled, blinking back the tears.

"So what did he want you for?" She changed the subject, not wanting to upset him further, as she knew he was not one to show all his emotions quite so willingly.

"He wanted to thank me for helping you. Of course we were transfixed with what you were saying. Continue in that vein and you will be giving us both big heads!" he laughed.

Sandrina smiled, she gripped his arm as all the knights would do together. "My brother…"

He tugged her into his arms once more "My sister…"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

They talked about his becoming a father, and San went a long way to reassure him that she would do all she could to ensure Amila was safe, and Merlin and Van would ensure the delivery went smoothly.

Lancelot left when Dagonet came in. He stood for a few moments just staring at the woman who had once held his heart before he gave it to another; she looked so ill, but resigned. She held out her arms "_Dagonet_" she whispered.

He went to her then, and sobbed – she held him, muttering into his ear her support, love and devotion. It broke her heart to see this noble and wonderful man brought so low, this friend who she would walk through fire for.

Eventually, she noticed he had stopped and was starting to draw back. "I will always be here for you Dagonet. You and Ilara, you are family to me; I will never desert you."

"I know, I know; she is so sad San, I know not what to do." he wiped his face. "I love her and only want her; but….it is hard". He sighed.

"Do you wish for me to talk to her? I have been lucky to have Milo I know, but Merlin said there would be no more children for me; and the reasons are the same as Ilara's. Would it help?" She swallowed; it still hurt to think about it.

"It might; would you?"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Later that day, Dagonet brought Ilara to her and left them alone. As he had, so she cried in San's arms. The women talked of the brutality they had endured that now affected their futures as well as their pasts.

Sandrina realised she was fortunate to have two children, one her lover's – Ilara had had one child murdered, and would only ever have an adopted son – he, not even her lover's blood.

However, they realised they had this evil thing in common, and it would be something they could talk about whenever they needed knowing the other would understand.

San persuaded Ilara that leaving Dagonet was not an option.

"He will die without you Ilara; there are none that could take your place for him. He would spend the rest of his life searching for you. I know you say he had feelings for another, but those feelings are naught compared to what he feels for you; trust me."

Ilara looked at Sandrina, she had found it hard to like the woman opposite her in the beginning – knowing she had unwittingly hurt Dagonet, had had his heart, and a connection to him she could never hope to have. She had been jealous of her…..

But now she realised that she was not this legend others spoke of with such awe – she was merely a woman; fallible, and with her own faults. She smiled.

"I will stay with him; how could I do otherwise? But I only wish I could give him just one child."

"Tristan told me he would not have wanted Milo if he knew he might lose me in his stead." She swallowed "he told me he was _glad_ I was now barren, that there would be no more children; that that meant there would no more worry I might die in the birthing."

Ilara nodded"You think Dagonet feels the same."

"I do; I know you are both sad at not making a child between you. But Lucan is a fine boy; you should both be proud.

I learnt long ago, that children have a way of finding you if they need you. I had fifteen with me when I first came, and they gradually found the ones to love them for always; I wanted more of my own, but I have two." She shrugged; her throat too tight with tears to speak further.

Ilara embraced her "you speak true; we will cope….we will…."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

And so the wheels of Destiny begin to slow; her path for this story now at last turning final corners to the end….…but what of the players on Fate's game?


	30. Happiness

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O) Celeste and Suriana are 13th C. names and ones I think fit this story very well._**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Thirty– Happiness_**

4 months later, Guinevere's time had been and gone and thankfully for Arthur it went well. She delivered him a son, Torvald. He was a strapping boy, and thrived well.

The delivery had gone much the same as San's, only without all the heartache; all the knights waited in the hallway outside, trying desperately to placate their anxious friend and leader.

Sandrina, Vanora and Merlin all helped; Ilara could not bring herself to aid her friends. She felt badly but knew they would understand; to help bring another life into the world, when she herself could not, was too painful to face.

The terror he knew Arthur went through did nothing to help calm Lancelot. He was worried about Amila; though San was taking great care of her cousin, which did help him a little.

Amila's mood swings were barely noticeable, however her cravings were legendary among the knights, and caused him more sleepless nights than worrying about the birth.

They lay in bed one night, wrapped around each other; his head on her rapidly expanding belly, smiling in his sleep as the baby would occasionally kick in protest at being squashed so.

Amila could not sleep, her stomach growled – she was hungry. She wanted…….something. Her mind wandered - fish stew and honey; just the thought made her mouth water.

She nudged Lancelot, his deep even breathing barely stirred. She nudged again. "Are you awake?"

"Nay….go to _sleep_…" he groaned.

"I am hungry!"

"Again? You ate three bowls of porridge this evening as well as a full meal…"

"I am eating for two…."

"You, my sweet, are eating for a whole army!" He sat up rubbing sleep from his eyes.

She grinned "You _are_ awake!"

"Nay, my eyes are open; do not read more into it than that." He grinned at her. "What is it you desire now, harpy of my heart?"

"Fish stew and honey….."

"_That_ is disgusting."

"Normally I would agree; but…."

"I'll see what I can do." He sighed as he hauled himself out of bed "but you will owe me a….." he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, before dropping a kiss on her swollen stomach "Love you…"

She fondled his curls "I love you too…"

"I was talking to my son."

"What if it is a girl?"

"So long as she is like her mother, I will be just as happy; driven mad mayhap, but happy!"

Laughing, she threw a pillow at the door as he left. He was back an hour later, to find her sound asleep. He groaned, before climbing back into bed and settling down with her again.

As he laid his head on her stomach, the baby kicked "do not _you_ start!" he whispered "Your mother is trouble enough" then he kissed her soft skin. Her hand snuck up and curled itself in his hair, tugging gently.

He raised his head "What now? I thought you were asleep…."

"Love me?" she whispered.

He pushed himself up the bed, gathering her into his arms "You know I do."

"You _do_ love us, do you not?"

"Nay, I hate you both; what other reason is there for my heart to feel as if it is being tugged from my chest every time I look at you - what do you think, you foolish woman?"

"Aye, but I am fat and ugly….."

"Yes, and I love every extra inch of you, because it means our child is within you; and you are beautiful for the same reason."

He got no further, as she smothered him with kisses "you know you can be quite charming." She grinned when they came up for air.

His reply was to kiss her soundly; his hands wandering over her body making her gasp….

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The days slipped past and soon it was spring; Alima's time was now near.

Tristan was keen to make San his, but she seemed in no rush to wed him. For the first time he began to doubt she _would_ wed him, which made him wonder why.

One night they lay in bed, listening to Bethan and Lucan coo at Milo in the other room. "They are very happy; apparently Bethan is sharing Milo with Lucan as he can have no siblings. We will now have three to look for!" She smiled against his arm, kissing the skin.

They were spooned, her back to his chest, his arms possessively around her. She had seemed more serene these days; back to the quiet woman he knew when they first met.

But he missed her fire, they all did. She still sparred with Lancelot, still looked after Gawain and Galahad, worked at the tavern, helped Vanora and Bors with the children, and had helped birth Arthur's son; was planning to do the same for Lancelot's baby. She loved Milo and Bethan; but there was something missing.

He hugged her tighter; nuzzling against her neck "What is it?" she could tell something was bothering him.

"Naught."

"Tell me."

"You will not wed me."

"I will."

"When?"

"Soon."

He sighed in exasperation.

"What?"

"You have been saying that for the last six and a half months San."

"Things have been busy." she felt him stiffen and knew she had said the wrong thing.

"So you are too 'busy' to wed the man you have cheated death for - twice?"

"That is not what I meant."

"What then?"

She merely sighed.

Finally his exasperation won, he turned her over to face him "what has happened?"

"Naught" she would not look at him.

"Then look at me when you say that."

She couldn't; he took her face and stared deep into her eyes, they were dim. "You love me."

"Aye."

"Then we will marry in two weeks..."

"_I_ do not get a say?"

"Nay."

"Why not, pray tell?"

"I am making the decision, as you will not."

"I see."

"You have not had Bethan nagging you about it." He smiled sardonically "our children wish to have us wed; even Milo agrees."

"Milo is only six and a half months old, he is not yet talking."

"He has very expressive eyes; I can read them."

"You are making fun of me now" but she smiled.

"I cannot be faulted for what our children want."

"Our children; aye, we have _our_ children." She sounded as if a truth were dawning.

"So _that _is what it has been about." Realisation dawned.

"I have been incredibly selfish; I have two wonderful healthy children; but I still felt a failure, half a woman - _empty_." Tears welled.

"Not to me; _never_ to me. You are the world and the Heavens to me San. Will you come back to me, to _all_ of us?"

"I have been here all along; just a little lost."

"Then let your scout lead you home." He kissed her, and for the first time in many months she kissed him back with real passion – deepening the kiss and letting her hands caress him.

He groaned in the back of his throat as she dropped feather light kisses on his face, then down his throat and along his chest. He pulled her up and kissed her passionately, trailing his lips in burning circles down her neck; his hands running over her body "I have missed you San." he growled against her skin.

"I have missed you too – I am so sorry." She pulled him back up to kiss her - he saw her eyes, the fire in them gradually returning. He kissed away the tears; and slowly the ice around her heart thawed, as his love warmed her and his passion set her on fire.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Nearly dawn, and Amila's time had come. She rose to use the water closet, the child heavy in her now. As she walked across the room, she felt a pressure and then…….

"Oh!" The feeling took her by surprise. She realised her waters had broken. The pains had not really started and there was no blood. She looked across at Lancelot; their time alone was ending…..

She put some cloths down to clear up the mess, when he sat up in bed "What are you doing woman? It is barely dawn and you are cleaning the floor, and in your condition?" He got up and, sweeping her into his arms, took her back to bed.

"My waters broke, idiot – I was just clearing up the mess…"

He hovered over her "_What_!"

"My waters broke…the baby is coming; I mean I am as big as the fort Lancelot! It was going to happen some time!" she giggled at the look on his face.

He fell off the bed "I have to get San, Vanora, Merlin….." he flew to the door.

"My lover?"

"What?" he skidded to a halt.

"Arthur might not appreciate you running around the fort stark naked." she laughed out loud.

Lancelot looked down "SHIT!" he dragged on his trousers as he ran out.

"Mayhap boots?" but he was gone. "Oh Lancelot, I love you!" She laughed.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The frantic knocking roused Tristan and Sandrina, they had spent most of the night making love and were exhausted.

Tristan flung the door open "What?" He only needed to look at Lancelot's frantic face. "San, it is time" he looked back at his friend and brother "I will come with you."

Within ten hours Amila had been delivered of identical twin girls, Celeste and Suriana; Lancelot was so shocked that Tristan and Dagonet actually had to hold him up when San told him.

"It would explain why she was so big Lancelot." She grinned.

He went into see her "Twins? Alima you never do things by half - most women would be content with one baby!"

"I am sorry one was not a boy." She smiled sadly.

"I care naught, you are safe and I have two beautiful daughters; what more could I wish for?" He sat on the bed, hugging her and his children.

'_I am a father, I am a **father**!'_ he thought, happier than even he thought possible. He had been a womaniser, and vowed never to give his heart or have children – and here he was having done both those things, and was very happy about it into the bargain.

"Marry me."

"What!" Amila looked tiredly at him.

"Marry me; I want you to wed me."

"You do not want to be tied down with a wife and two children; it is the shock talking Lancelot…"

"Nay, it is not."

"Well, ask me again when you are calm and these two have had you up in the night to change their nappies." So he did, every day; some times up to eight times.

This went on for three days "Alright - _alright_! I will marry you if you stop _nagging_ me!"

"HA! I knew I would win!" He grinned, sweeping his daughter's into his arms "She will marry me!" and he danced round the room with them.

"You lunatic man!" she chuckled as she rolled her eyes in amused disbelief at him.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He was discussing the wedding with Tristan. "Why do we not double up?" asked the scout.

"Would you?"

"Aye."

"But you are getting married the day after tomorrow."

"Less time for her to change her mind, trust me - let me know." The scout walked away with a smile.

Lancelot, in his infinite wisdom decided that he would not tell Amila until they were with San, Tristan and Merlin. San was not convinced, but agreed to keep his secret as did the other knights.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Bethan was with Milo and Lucan "I love you little brother." she cooed at the boy.

Lucan laughed "I cannot believe this is the same Bethan who was so jealous of him before he was born!"

"I know" she smiled "but you are so _cute_, are you not Milo?" she murmured as the baby gurgled happily at her. He adored his sister, always holding his arms up to her to be picked up as soon as he saw her – she lavished attention on the boy, taking him everywhere with her whenever her parents would let her. "Come, we must practice; I have not touched a sword in a week, all because of you little man. Mother is getting ready for the weddings, so I..."

"Wedding_s_ – do you not mean wedding?"

"Nay, Lancelot is luring cousin Amila into a double wedding with my parents!" she whispered, leaning closely to Lucan.

She was grinning up at him; he was drowning in those huge blue eyes of hers. She was nearly ten and he had just turned twelve, and suddenly nearly three years of pent up emotions pushed to the surface – he leant forward and kissed her, pressing his lips to hers.

Bethan froze, and broke the embrace. "You kissed me!"

"Did you not like it? To be honest I am not sure if I did it correctly."

She thought for a moment "aye, I did. Do it again."

He happily obliged "Well?"

"It is nice…but I would not want to do it too often."

"Why not?"

"It makes me feel funny; in a good way, but…still funny." She smiled. "I think you are a good kisser Lucan. Not that I have ever kissed anyone else like that."

"I am pleased to hear it. Do you think you ever will…….want to kiss someone else I mean?"

Again a pause as she thought "Nay, I think I will only ever wish to kiss you. Now come on, while we take little man here to practice. I have to do my sword and bow work today!" They trotted off laughing, Bethan carrying her brother on her hip; Lucan the other side of her, his arm round her shoulders.

Gawain and Galahad stepped out from behind the pillar where they'd be watching. "I think we need to have a chat with Tristan and Dagonet" smiled Gawain "our little scout and her playmate are growing up."

"Oh, they are yet but babes!" laughed Galahad.

"Nay, they are _not_; that is the problem." Gawain frowned at the other knight "They are growing up and they are beginning to care for each other the way adults do; you understand Galahad?"

"Methinks the Gallant Sir Gawain is getting all protective of his little scout!" he smiled.

"Shut up, Galahad!" he marched off in search of Tristan and Dagonet.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Gawain found both men in the stables, he explained what he'd seen and advised them that maybe the sleeping arrangements should be altered from now on. "They act like a little family, Tris; I just thought you both ought to know. Little scout, is not so little anymore."

Tristan nodded "We will watch them."

Dagonet agreed "the problem is we forget how they are growing."

"Look…" Gawain pointed to the practice field. Lucan was sparring with Bethan, who was pulling faces at her brother, whilst he was laying on a blanket, every time she ran past and was making the little boy squeal with delight. Every time Bethan won and would do a little victory dance, he would clap his hands. Lucan grabbed her and swung her round….

"I love you so much Bethan!" his voice floated across to the stables.

Gawain looked pointedly at the two men "Well?"

"They are growing up alright; but it has been nearly three years, I suppose we forget that."

"I could not imagine life without them now; could you?" asked Gawain.

Both the men shook their heads, Lancelot wandered in"We three did not have one, did we? We were dead….."

They all laughed. But Tristan and Lancelot smiled at each other, Dagonet caught their train of thought. They were not only alive, they had families now……

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

And so the wheels of Destiny begin to slow; her path for this story now nearly complete. Amila will be pleased, to at last snare the dark knight, won't she? But how will Lucan take to being separated more often from his Bethan?


	31. Epilogue

**_Disclaimer: As before _please,_ for the love of _God,_ don't keep making me write it out people:O)_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**KING ARTHUR:**_

_**Fallen Knights Return**_

**_Chapter Thirty-One – Epilogue_**

Three years to the day after Sandrina entered the fort she stood on Baden Hill, not far from the cemetery where she had first raised the three fallen knights, and took her vows with Tristan.

The ceremony was short and to the point, as neither she nor the scout wanted "too many hearts and flowers" as they put it. True to his word, Tristan asked Merlin to leave out the vow of 'obey'.

"Did you know it was the day we came?" She asked him afterward.

"How could I forget? It seemed right."

"You light my life." She sighed wrapping her arms around him and kissing him deeply.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Alima was surprised that San, Guinevere, Ilara _and_ Vanora was so keen to see her dressed well. "But it is _your_ day San. Why should it matter what _I_ look like?" She'd protested.

"Humour me." San used a tone that brooked no argument; the last time the knights themselves had heard it was when she was demanding to see Germanius' dungeon.

The younger woman was shocked to realise that it was her wedding too; so shocked that she was rendered speechless "Get on with it Merlin, before she recovers the power of speech and changes her bloody mind; though mayhap I should take a moment to enjoy the only time in my life when she does not harangue me with that harpy's tongue of hers!"

She flung her arms round his neck and kissed him soundly, Lancelot laughed and muttered "for a moment there I thought I might be about to wed you with another black eye!"

"That is supposed to be after the bloody vows!" Called out Bors.

After the vows were given and they drank from the gold cup, everyone cheered…

Except for Bors, gathering the knights and their women, he made them cry "RRROOOUUUSSS!"

Dagonet, laughing, turned to Ilara "Us soon?"

"Aye - us soon."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It was actually two years later that Dagonet and Ilara finally married. "Dance?" he asked her, at the feast.

He called Lucan, "here take your brothers; whilst I dance with your mother."

Lucan and Bethan took the two little boys, one a year old and the other three years for a walk with the others in their little group; Milo (now two and a half),****Celeste and Suriana (now two).

The boys' parents had died, the mother in childbirth and the father at his own hand through grief. They had no other family and Arthur knew immediately who would love them like their own. Ilara and Dagonet realised that San had been right, children had a way of finding you if they need you.

Lucan was fourteen now, a strapping lad who was still devoted to his Bethan. He had not taken kindly at all to being separated more from her most nights. But they had adapted, as they always did.

Bethan was twelve, and as wild as the wind. Her elemental ability far outstripping even her mother's now; she was a legend at the fort, and the spitting image of her father in every way, even down to her mannerisms. Her world revolved round her family, Lucan and, above and beyond all else, her knights; particularly Gawain.

She was fast becoming an expert scout, and as a warrior it was only her age and size holding her back. She had a temper to match her mother's, and a spirit that would dwarf the sun - according to the knights anyway. They adored her, each and every one of them; but Gawain most of all.

She had her own hawk now, Faith, and her new horse was named Charity. She said they matched her father's hawk Hope. She had found the hawk as a fallen hatchling; sitting in a tree motionless for nearly a day in case the parents returned – when they did not, she nursed it herself.

She had too her own Sarmatian blades, and a Woad bow. She had embraced all parts of her life and her heritage, and Merlin could not have been prouder. She carried his bloodline, and though it had been tainted with roman, he knew the Sarmatian and Briton blood would drown that out; it was proven in aught she did every day.

San was still a little sad at losing her constant companion only a month before, most at the fort were surprised at how she grieved for a mere dog.

But the knights all understood how he had been more than that to her. Midnight had been her rock, had been with her through battles and torments they knew they still did not know all of. She knew she would lose him one day, yet when it happened the pain was still palpable.

Arthur allowed him to be buried on Baden Hill, the only animal to do so, as a faithful friend to one of his knights. Tristan would often find her weeping by his grave, kneeling in the dirt – her hand on the small mound of earth whispering "I miss you my old friend…I miss you." her tears falling heedlessly to the ground.

Galahad had married Alesia, the year before. Gawain was still courting Ysabeau, and everyone felt it was only time until they too wed. None really knew what was holding them back, but felt their union was inevitable.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Merlin stood on the battlements; five years, destiny's path had taken five years to go along. There had been many changes in that time; some good, some not so good. Losses too; but as he looked down on the festivities below him he was well pleased with the final outcome.

He looked at the two females who had brought all this about; and felt immense pride they were of his bloodline…..

Destiny's rewards for all involved would be great; but for those two, they would be immense. History would remember this king and his knights - because of them.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Little scout!" greeted Gawain "How are you? The wedding was a good one, was it not?"

"Not so much of the little any more, Gawain; I am _twelve_ now." she laughed, running up to him and throwing her arms round his neck.

"Still 'little scout' to me though, always will be" he smiled. "Where is your Lucan?"

"Around; I wanted to escape the children for a while - I think he has them, so he will be seeking me soon enough fear not."

"I do not doubt you can avoid him if you wish!" Laughed the knight.

"Do not I always; how else would we be able to ride together uninterrupted?" She giggled. She glanced at Dagonet and Ilara "they look so happy, do they not?"

"Indeed they do."

"What of you?"

"What of me?"

"Why do you not wed Ysabeau?"

"Truth be told, we are happy as we are - if she becomes with child, then we will think again. But otherwise, we are happy…so…."

"So why upset the applecart?"

"Aye, in a nutshell as usual, Little Scout" He grinned, and then sighed "I only wish everyone else took the hint as easily as you do…"

"Tell them to go feed the bullshit to someone else!"

Gawain laughed loudly "What have I told you about your language! You will get all us knights executed if your mother found out!"

"I am careful around my mother, never fear!" She tilted her head to one side, "Oh God, they are coming; I best go, save me a dance?"

He had heard naught, but never did where she was concerned. So like her parents, hearing things the rest always missed. "Of course, could I deny aught to my dearest friend?" He grinned.

Moments after she had melted into the darkness, Lucan appeared – Gawain pointed back to the party, knowing it was the opposite direction his Little Scout had taken "I think she went that way…" He could swear he heard a whispered giggle behind him; He masked his face as best could so as not to reply in kind.

The lad rolled his eyes "I hate this, I always get bloody lumbered! Tis only because I am not as good as her at fighting! I would not mind but this one" he indicated a little boy with dark hair and plaits in it "Is _her_ brother; bloody 'Little Scout', my arse!" His irritation did not reach his eyes, and Gawain knew he did not mean it, as he ambled off; towing the children behind him.

Lancelot rushed up and grabbed his daughters "I will take my little demons, Lucan!"

He looked down at the girls "Dada, Dada!" They cried together.

"You, my little minxes, what are devilry are you scheming now?" he knelt down, only to be knocked over by them.

They all three rolled around on the ground laughing and giggling. Three dark curly heads; the two little girls leapt up shrieking as Lancelot launched at them "I am going to get you and eat you all up! Yummy, yummy in my tummy!" he grabbed them again, tickling them until they were shrieking hysterically.

Tristan appeared out of the darkness and rolled his eyes "Your wife wishes your children off to bed Lancelot; though in truth I know not if that is to include you, child that you are."

Lancelot chuckled "Mayhap it does my friend, for you can be naught else but a child with these two!" he looked to his daughters once more "I will do it; come on my harpies, time to sleep. Dada tuck you in?"

"Dada, Dada! Story!"

Amila walked up, "I see Tris has passed on the message - time they were abed. " she kissed him deeply. Gawain and Tristan exchanged smirks.

"Moving furniture tonight then?" Gawain asked innocently. They all laughed, amazed at how that phrase had stuck even after all these years.

"Story Dada!" Celeste demanded cheekily.

"Well let me tell you the one about this beautiful witch who cast a spell on a poor handsome and charming knight; bewitching him until he fell desperately in love with her…." His voice faded away, as the four walked to their home.

"Your daughter went the way you just came - I think." Pointed Gawain.

"I saw her; we too will be going soon".

"I had better get back then – she asked me to dance with her…"

"Best not keep her waiting; you know what she is like..."

"Aye, able to sit motionless in a tree for hours just watching to see if her hawk's parents came back, but cannot wait five minutes for aught else!"

As if on cue "_GAWAIN_!" she appeared behind her father "we have to dance now; I must put Milo to bed soon." She tugged his hand impatiently "Come _on_…" for his part he allowed himself to be towed to where everyone was dancing.

She reeled a storm, everyone clapping and chanting, until she was breathless. She caught her father's eye, immediately knowing it was time to go.

She flung her arms round his neck "Thank you!" she gasped…

He swung her round until she was dizzy "goodnight Little Scout and sweet dreams" Gawain laughed planting a kiss on her cheek, watching as she tottered off. Milo hurried up to her "Befan, befan! carry Milo; befan - _carry_!"

Laughing she swung him into her arms and over her shoulder "where have you been my darling boy? Did you go with Lucan and leave your poor Bethan!"

He leant back, patted her face and kissed her cheek "Milo _never_ leave his befan; Milo _love_ befan!"

She hugged him tightly "oh, my little man; where would I be without you?"

Tristan and Sandrina watched her too "Remember how she was terrified you would love him more than her? Oftentimes I think she loves that boy more than she loves _us_!" laughed her mother, a lump in her throat.

Tristan nodded "We are very lucky San."

Bethan turned "I would never love anyone more than you two; but I do admit to loving my little man as much!" she grinned. "Come my little brother; let us put you to bed." She swung him onto her back.

"What we dream of befan?" All the knights heard it, the music stopping as people begin to filter away. They stopped to listen to the voice of the young girl speaking to her brother…..…..

"What?"

"What we dream of?"

"What do we always dream about little one? A wide open plain and us riding as fast as our horses will gallop across it; the sun on our backs, blue sky above us and the wind in our face, the freedom that comes with being able to run as far and as fast as you wish with naught to hinder you.

The solitude of a quiet wood with no disturbance save your own thoughts and the call of a bird; the excitement of a thunderstorm, where the thunder calls your name and writes your dreams in the lightening.

That is what we dream about Milo…what we _always_ should dream about…._freedom_."

She reached up and patted the little hands round her neck. "and to know that we are lucky enough to have family and my knights – _my friends _- especially, who would care if we died tonight. You fill my soul with pride and my heart with love Milo….because of you, the knights and my parents I have not lost all faith in mankind.…I _know_ we will prevail."

"What about the happy afters?"

She turned to look at the assembled knights, even Lancelot briefly returning to say goodnight "I have my happy ever after right here…."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

And so Destiny's wheels stop.

her path is at end; the story continues for these few - life rolls on now, as always; but _our_ part in it, is done.

**_Will be doing a follow on for Bethan and Lucan, as loads have asked me._**


End file.
